


Prescient

by thatdamnuchiha



Series: In the Company of Elves [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Balrog Slayer(s), Balrogs, Character Death, Coping, Coping with Death, Death, F/M, Fall of Gondolin, Fear of fire, Flashbacks, Fluff, Glorfindel is clueless on the whole, Gondolin, House of the Golden Flower, Memories, Middle Earth, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, OFC is a bit of a coward, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Pre-Lord of The Rings, Rebirth, Reincarnation, Remember, Rivendell | Imladris, Slow Build, Sort of? - Freeform, Technically the Major Character Death Has Already Happened, Third Age, Trauma, Watchful Peace, and all the baggage that comes with it, i guess?, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2020-10-21 11:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 36,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20692955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdamnuchiha/pseuds/thatdamnuchiha
Summary: When dreams stop being dreams, things get confusing.Anna is back – back in a place she once thought was just a product of her imagination. The silvery locks, bluish-grey eyes, and the pointed ears prove that much. Her dreams were memories. The same memories that led up to her death… well, her first death, before she slipped through a crack in the Halls of Mandos.Ash, blood, and fire haunt her, the sounds of a dying, burning city echoing in her head whenever she tries to rest. Coming back from death is never easy. Death leaves scars on one’s very soul, but who better to heal those wounds than the company of her kin? There’s only one problem. Returning to her kin in Arda means facing the elf she sacrificed her life for. The one whose heart she broke all those years ago. But she doesn’t have an option to stay away.Every day the call of the sea grows stronger for him, and it’s not his time just yet. He is their emissary, and it’s time they finally gave something back. Even if that something happens to be the love he’s convinced he lost years ago.[pending edits; reconstruction in progress]





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> ATTENTION, this is a sequel to a fanfic called REMEMBER. So, in other words, if you haven't read it go back and do so, otherwise you might be a bit lost... though who knows?
> 
> Anyway, I thought it time I got to work on this on top of everything else, so here you go. Part Two of Anna's Adventures.
> 
> I'm now editing this work, and the edits will be sporadic, and will probably take some time to finish - but they will hopefully be adding more to the story, because now I know more Tolkien Lore than I did at the start of this.

She hailed from the shores of Aman, her mother did, born of a secretive love between two houses different in culture and standing. Vingarína, foam-crowned, they called her, born unto sand, seafoam, and power. There she resided, quietly mighty amongst the Firstborn in spirit – for she was a child of two clans, two noble houses of princes, with hair that sparkled like liquid silver, and eyes so bright which sparked with the light of stars above. Like her mother before her, she delighted in the sea, spending days upon days milling about in the seafoam her mother had named her after. Her father roamed the fields, with hair spun of strands of gold threaded with locks the colour wheat, calling her Meliniel, as was her father-name. _Beloved daughter. _And beloved she was, of shore and sea, of gold and silver.

But to dwell amongst the Falmari and the Vanyar she was not, for it was on those shores that she met him. A Noldor male, descended from a lesser branch of Finwë’s line, and the grace of his face matched those claims. His hair was dark, his eyes a bluish-grey which seemed to reflect the sea Meliniel so loved. Téralosion, he was named, after the pointed ice and snow of the season of his birth. It suited him more so, what with the sharp lines of his face – a far cry from the soft features of her parents.

Silmëwen, he named her, and from then her fate was set. She was to be counted among the Noldor, no matter her seafaring heart or the emboldening words of power which resounded inside her mind. For though she may have held the sweet voice common to the Falmari, the land called to her so, beckoning her away from her beloved shores. With the Noldor she remained. So when the sundering came, she followed her husband. She went with him through the bitter ice to the lands the ones before them had crossed and left behind.

Arda, those lands were called, and they were so very different to the peace of Aman. There was something restless about them, but it was in those lands that they made their home eventually. They had followed Turgon’s host, and joy awaited them in the city of Gondolin, such as it was called. For it was there that she was born.

A child Meliniel could tell would strive onwards and upwards, always seeking to better herself. It was a mother’s intuition. And so she bestowed the name—

* * *

Her eyes snapped open, greeting the clouds marring the bright blue sky above her. The name escaped her, slipping through her grasp like the waters of the Belegaer. _The Great Sea west of Arda. _She could almost hear whispers of it in the air, beckoning her back to the homeland of her kin. The land where her parents had dwelled for a time. Groaning, she lifted herself to her elbows, a scowl painting her lips as a pounding began in the back of her head. _Where was she? _She wanted to know the answer to that, and quickly so.

The last thing she could remember were the bright lights of a _car _followed by a flash of pain… and then that strange meeting. “Oh,” the sound left her lips, foreign and strange to the part of her which recalled simply being _edain_. In that strange world full of technology, without elves, dwarves, or any other of the free-folk of Middle-Earth aside from them. She had _died _once more in that strange world – for how else could she have encountered the keeper of the slain?

Mandos presided over spirits in his halls. The same halls she could vaguely recall before she had wound up in the body of Anna in a strange world. She had grown there from a babe – not the same kind of reincarnation known to the eldar, but a reincarnation just the same. Now it seemed it had happened once more, only this time she was in her old body. Well, a new body which looked the exact same as her old one. How it should have always been.

She should never have gone to that strange world, but her fate was a curious one, or so it seemed. Though she supposed she could blame being unmarried on that. The strangest fates always befell those ones, and she had been among that number.

Gingerly, she pulled herself to a sitting position. Her head ached something fierce, and she wanted nothing more than to lie back down. But she would not permit herself to do so. There was an undercurrent of unease in the air. She could taste it on her tongue, tingling and sweet. It told her nothing good would come of lingering there too long. Though she didn’t have the slightest clue of where she ought to be heading.

The stars above her were all that she recognised, and even then there was one slight difference. A new star hung in the sky, bright and shining, gleaming with a light which made her heart skip ever so slightly. She couldn’t fathom the reason.

Gondolin, the plains, mountains, and the trees within and around them were all she had ever known. A covert courier mission, carried out in tense worry and silence, to a city whose name had slipped from her memories, was the furthest she had ever travelled. She had never ever seen the sea before, no matter how much some small part of her urged her towards it. Though that was the Falmari blood in her veins calling, according to her mother.

She smiled then, despite the pounding ache in her head. Part of her was ever so grateful those hadn’t been muddled. She would have hated to forget her mother’s voice, to lose her father’s smile. A hum escaped her then, content despite the strange circumstances surrounding her reincarnation to those familiar lands she had so missed.

There was a white city she missed more, but that she knew would be long gone. How could it not when she had seen half of it turned to rubble with her very own eyes? She could still feel the sting of blade and fire upon her skin, and she shivered then, wrapping her arms around herself as if that would be able to ward off the foul memories.

_Of those eyes, burning and cold, boring into her—_

She shivered again, harder that time. Silently, she mused on what had overcome her at that time when she had decided to break the bridge. Reckless. That was always a word which _he _had associated with her. While she didn’t always charge in without a plan, it had been noted she had an unfortunate tendency to prioritise other things over her own health and safety. She had thought those other things were more important. Her lord had disagreed.

At the time, she had never quite understood why. She had thought him thinking lesser of her, because she wasn’t as old, nor as strong, nor as wise as many of the members of his household. Which, in hindsight, had led to her clashing many a times with her lord so beloved of the Gondolindrim. That smile of his, which she was certain had broke the hearts of many ellith, simply made her want to punch him – if only to prove that she wasn’t some lesser weak elleth, simply because she was so young, and had not seen the light of the Two Trees for herself. She didn’t have a modicum of the patience or grace most of her kin did, and she had hated herself for it.

Now, especially after living as Anna for a time, she was slightly more liking of the idea of being _different. _Unique. What was the fun in being the same as everyone else? She supposed the changeableness of being mortal had infected her there. Her parents would no doubt be horrified, or perhaps delighted, and others would no doubt be the same should they know of what befell her, or perhaps they would be slightly jealous as such. For death was the Gift of Man. Their place in the Second Music of the Ainur was assured, their fëa truly immortal even though their bodies were not, whilst that of their kin was uncertain, bound to Arda as they were, but she had faith. _They had to._

A smile curled at her lips then, and she breathed in the familiar air. Whilst she had enjoyed being _Anna, _she was glad to be home, surrounded by the familiar songs of the wild, melodious and intoxicating as they were. Well, she was home in the loosest sense of the definition. Her mirth and wistfulness faded then, replaced by a slow burning sorrow at the thought of home. Because home was a white city which had been destroyed so callously.

_She had no home now. _The realisation had tears filling her eyes. There would be no more climbing white towers. No more singing to greet the sun as it crested over the peaks of the mountains. No more looking on as golden light reflected itself off the shimmering waters of the fountains within the square. No more skipping over the wooden bridge which had been hastily constructed when an underground river had finally made the surface above it fracture and crack.

By the grace of Ulmo and Uinen they had said, when the sunlight first fell on that buried vein of water. She had been mesmerised by its beauty, entranced by the silvery waters which rippled and gurgled over dark grey rock smoothened by years of waters rushing past. Her mother had told her the sea was vastly more beautiful. Part of her couldn’t wait to greet those waters – to sing with them as she was often found to do with the many sources which had been found within that beautiful city.

High dwellings, and places of water, as the Gondolindrim had been aware, were where she could be found if she wasn’t sequestered away in the grounds of the House of the Golden Flower. Though she hadn’t been as loved as her golden-haired lord was, she liked to think she was memorable at the very least.

A storm, that was what they had called her, the Tempest of the Golden Flower, and while her boldness hadn’t always been a good thing, it had at the very least been accepted. She had never been incredibly graceful as the ladies of the court, nor had she ever held anyone’s ears as the many scholars had, but when it came to singing – now that was where she truly shined, blessed by the fair voices of the Falmari as she was. Her mother had loved to tell her she ought to have become a bard and told others of her ancestry to garner a modicum of respect – to be welcomed into the courts, given the nobleness of her blood. The thought had never appealed to her though. The sharpness of a blade, on the other hand… Now that had really caught her eye, which was why she had took the path of the blade, striven to become the warrior she had.

Chuckling then, she pulled a strand of her silvery hair before her, twirling around her finger as she had so often done when thinking. It was part of the reason why her lord had insisted it be braided when they trained with the bow and blade. Her hair had been a distraction. It had taken her years to figure out the real question was _for whom? _

Though she supposed the distraction when it came to hair went both ways. Hers was silver and liked to glow under the light of the moon and stars when she sung to Uinen and Varda. His was gold and ever so radiant under the light of the sun. It was almost breath-taking when he stood between her and the sun’s light. The glow highlighting those golden locks had been magnificent, and it had made her catch her breath a few times. _Before she reminded herself that she wasn’t supposed to be musing over his beauty because she was petty and hated his guts._

She could still remember when she had first met him, back when she had barely come up to his hip in height, her face still lined with baby fat, her eyes shining with the innocent wonder only a child could possess.

She would never forgive him for making her blush and act as shy as she had. Her mother had never failed to remind her that she had been one of the most rambunctious elflings to ever grace the city of Gondolin, and was forever infinitely amused, in all her motherly glory, at how she had behaved upon meeting the elf lord. Which, in hindsight, was probably why most of Gondolin had at least known of her existence – thanks to her rambunctiousness and not her shyness when it came to a certain golden elf lord. _If only because she was a walking disaster, who normally wound up with an injury or two. _The amount of time she had spent as a child, teary-eyed, in the Halls of Healing under the stern, scolding gaze of the healers there. They, much like her mother, had been immune to her tearful apologies and whimpers of pain. Well, by her seventh visit there in the space of a month, that was.

Shivering yet again, this time thinking of the healers of Gondolin, she tried to turn her thoughts away from them and their stern lecture which had often reduced her to tears. Instead, she thought of _him. _How his name eluded her still. How her own name eluded her still. “Will you give it back to me, I wonder?” she mused, smiling as a blossom from one of the flowering trees nearby fluttered down to brush against her skin.

The sounds of waters rushing close by had her climbing to her feet. They were bare, the boots she had worn so long ago gone, leaving her in a flowing white dress which reached her ankles. It was one of the kinds of dresses her mother had made, and she had loved to dress her up in as such.

Not that she had enjoyed wearing them. Dresses like the ones her mother designed weren’t well suited for climbing. She was certain she would have scandalised half of the Gondolindrim had she not opted for a tunic and pants when nimbly climbing the highest building she could reach in time for either sunrise or sunset.

It was hardly a surprise that her favourite celebration happened to be the Gates of Summer, Tarnin Austa, when the city was adorned with lamps which shone like stars, and the budding trees were adorned with lights which gleamed many colours. They were like jewels.

She could still remember when her father had taken her along, even as young as she was, to help hang those lights on the main golden tree which grew in the courtyard outside the main building of the House of the Golden Flower, with their lord’s private quarters just off to the side of that same courtyard.

She had climbed it, tall as it was, but her mother’s chiding and the fact it didn’t give the best view of the city led to her rarely climbing up its gold-tinted branches. Truly, it had been fitting that the House of the Golden Flower had taken up residence nearby it.

But that tree was long gone, she reminded herself, along with the fountains, and the high towers she had loved to visit. How ironic it had been that it had been the morning of the Gates of Summer that Morgoth’s armies had attacked.

She could still remember the light coming from the north rather than the east, and that piercing cry which had broken the silence that they always held from midnight until sunrise. She would never forget the way it had echoed, and the chaos which had followed the cry of the creature bearing down upon the city.

_“Dragon!”_

The memory of that word, the way it had been screamed, made her eyes snap open, and she hadn’t realised they’d been closed, caught up in the past as she was.

Coming back to her senses, she stared at the forest around her, free from the fires of dragon and balrog, clear of the poisonous song which had emanated from the serpents. The great worms which had laid waste to her homeland. They weren’t near her anymore, and for that she was eternally grateful. Their songs hadn’t gone on for too long, nor had they poisoned weaker minds, given how the warriors of the Gondolindrim had fallen upon them, caught their attention, while others were led through Idril’s Secret way – to safety, or so she hoped.

Dimly, she wondered if _he_ had survived. But she supposed she could figure that out when she found some of her kin. She presumed she was safe in her assumptions that they still lingered on the shores of Arda – because she knew that was where she was. She knew in her bones that she hadn’t been reembodied in Aman. Which, she supposed, was rather unusual, but far less than what she had already experienced.

She doubted anything could top that. Her hands slapped her cheeks then, pulling her out of the spiral of memories before she could slip back into them, because she needed to get moving. She could hear it in the sounds of the winds and the waters even before she reached them. They whispered about danger afoot, and her eyes widened then as a piercing howl rang out behind her.

Wolves.

Her teeth sunk into her lip, and part of her cursed at how she had been left there without her a blade or any other form of weapon. She would have even taken a spear, no matter how terrible she was at using one. As it was, she was bare-handed and utterly vulnerable, and whilst her uncanny strength might have allowed her to kill one without a blade, she did not fancy her chances against an entire pack.

“Valier,” she muttered, forcing her legs to move. Her feet plunged into the stream, and she cared not even as stones bit into the soft skin of her foot. She knew the pain of a wolf’s jaws would be far worse. “Please do not let them find the trail,” she whispered, splashing through yet another small tributary. Though she knew her wish was in vain. She had a history of bad luck, and for some strange, inane reason, she doubted it had broken even after her death and subsequent rebirth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED: 09/08/2020


	2. Imladris

Blood trickled down from her temple, and Anna swore under her breath, smearing blood away from her eye for the third time that minute. The sounds of wolves howling was growing fainter and fainter, but she wasn’t too sure it would last. Not if they picked up the scent of her blood. Judging by her luck, there was little doubt they wouldn’t find the trail. She hadn’t exactly had the time to cover it up, what with dangerous creatures being in the area. Either way her luck would’ve gotten her into trouble. _For what had to be the thousandth time._

“Today is not my day,” she muttered, hitching up her dress as best as she could as she ran through a wide, shallow river. “It just had to be wolves… why could it not have been bunnies… or kittens…” Blood dripped down onto the white fabric she wore, and her shoulders sunk. _That would most definitely be a pain to get out. _Anna tilted her head, staring at the small rips and dirt stained all over the nice dress. _Well, if there was any point in getting it out. She was fairly sure the only clothing she had was ruined. _Her heart pounded in her chest, and she continued in her headlong run, blinking as the treeline fell away all of a sudden, and her bare, torn feet met the dirt road. Her head snapped left and right, mind frantically trying to work out which way she should go.

Howls behind her had her running left before she could stop herself. She didn’t pay attention to the ache in her feet, only running as fast and far as she could. She’d just been… _reincarnated_… she didn’t particularly want to die so soon after. _She didn’t think she could handle a third death, nor another trip to the Halls of Mandos. _Her lungs ached, her head pounding, ears twitching as they caught the sounds of… _hoofbeats? _Anna blinked, eyes snapping up from the ground, her feet skidding to a stop as she spotted the riders. Two of them. There was no point in hiding in the bushes, either. They’d seen her. _Besides, they were of elven kind, and she sorely needed some assistance, no matter how much the thought burnt at her pride._

_Not that her pride had ever helped her._

She eyed them up, biting her lip at their unfamiliar armour and visage. Whoever they were, she had no clue who they were. _Their armour was too light… _Her eyes narrowed. Any metal plating was thin and sparsely placed, their legs lacking the polished greaves she was so used to seeing. _Well, before she’d died the first time around. _They weren’t even wearing helmets, instead allowing their long brown hair to flutter in the winds behind them as they rode. _Easy pickings for orcs and balrogs, but fortunately there weren’t any in the nearby vicinity. Only wolves. _

Anna blinked a couple of times, rubbing at her sore head, knowing she was most definitely going to have a headache after all of this insanity. _But it could wait until she was somewhere safe. _Her body relaxed of its own accord as they brought their horses to a halt only meters from where she stood. _They were kin, and they most certainly were not Fëanorian. _

“My lady, you are injured…”

Anna withheld her snarky response, reminding herself she was _eldar _and as such had to try and speak like one. She wasn’t of the _edain_.

The other elf, undeniably the twin of the first, stepped closer. “There are many wolves in this forest. We were sent to ensure they do not encroach on our lands. May I enquire as to why you are this far out from any settlement?”

Anna’s mind went blank, her lips parting, eyebrows knotting together as she struggled to work out what the hell she could say without lying her teeth off. She wasn’t comfortable admitting she’d been reborn as it was. Reborn elves were meant to stay in Valinor. She didn’t want to think about her death… her deaths. It was all too fresh. But she couldn’t lie to save her life. _She was never any good at lying. Partial truths were her best friend. _Yet she couldn’t come up with any half decent reason. “I, well, just woke up here?” she said, swiping more blood away from her eye, noting how their grey eyes, so similar to her own, darted up to the wound on her head.

“I see,” the first mumbled. “Where have my manners gone?” he spoke, smiling pleasantly even as his gaze lingered on her bloodied head. _It was made that much more prominent by her silvery hair. _“I am Elladan, son of Elrond, and this is my brother, Elrohir.”

“Well met,” she mumbled, tongue tripping over the words. “I am…” Anna blinked, trailing off as the thought struck her. _She wasn’t Anna. Anna was the name of the mortal, not the elf she’d always been. _Yet she couldn’t remember her elvish name. It was just static to her ears. Static to her mind. “I…” Her hand went to her bloodied head. “I…”

“My lady, please do not trouble yourself so,” Elladan said, reaching out to steady her, and she realised she’d been swaying on her feet. _How embarrassing. _

“I do not remember,” she mumbled, irritation making tears bite at the corner of her eyes. “But the few people I met before waking in this forest… they called me Anna, though I am certain that is not my actual name.”

“Well met then, Lady Anna,” Elrohir said, casting his eyes back to the forest where the howls came from before they flickered back to her. “Though I sorely wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Brother, I do believe we should return to father. She needs to have her wounds tended to, and rather urgently, I would say.”

Anna blinked. “Are you not here to deal with the wolves though? I do not wish to impede your task. I should be able to defend myself adequately should I have a weapon, so if you—”

“Lady Anna, you are injured, quite severely too,” Elrohir spoke, his voice firm, and suddenly Anna felt so much smaller than she actually was. _How old even was he? _she mused, realising in horror that she was technically in her late three-hundreds if she was going by the number of years she’d technically been alive for. _She was fairly sure there’d been some space-time distortion when she’d entered that mortal world. _Anna bit her lip, staring between the two of them, only able to watch as Elladan mounted his horse. _They considered her to be seriously injured? _A small sad smile curled at her lips even as she was lifted on the horse _like a damned princess… or an injured lady, as she was. _Grief panged in her chest, sorrow radiating through her very soul. _What would they have thought of her injuries that led to her first death? _

“We can ask father to send out another pair to deal with the subjugation. The task is not too high of a priority. These wolves know better than to venture too far into our territory,” Elladan spoke, holding her in place in front of him. _She was riding side-saddle thanks to her dress. _“Do not concern yourself. The delay in completion of this task will not affect us in the slightest.”

“I see,” she murmured. “Where are we headed?” she asked, curious as to whereabouts she’d landed. _Was she near Doriath or someplace else she might recognise? They hadn’t heard much of the cities outside and their states in the last years before the Fall of Gondolin, but at least some of them had to have survived the war._

“Imladris, my lady,” Elladan spoke, smiling gently down at her as she tried to make herself as comfortable as she could. She didn’t have a clue how long the journey would take, just like she didn’t have a clue of where she was exactly.

Anna blinked again, her face carefully blank as she mumbled the unfamiliar name. “Imladris…?” Something stirred in the back of her mind, preventing her from asking where exactly in Beleriand the place was. _Was it recently founded or something? _The thought twisted like a knife in her gut. _Or had that much time really passed since her death in these lands? _She didn’t like the second idea all that much. _It just gave him a longer time for his hatred of her to have built up._

“Where our father rules – Lord Elrond,” Elrohir piped up from where he rode next to them, her ever blank face in perfect sight. “He will be able to help with your injuries.” His eyes darted down to her feet that time, the cuts and abrasions on them evidently not escaping his sharp eyes. _It was hardly her fault she’d been forced to run barefoot through a bramble-covered forest floor though. The wolves were to blame for that._

The twins exchanged looks, and Anna felt that horrible sense of foreboding again. _The one which said she might as well have just stuck her foot in her mouth for all her lack of talking. _A shallow laugh didn’t even manage to escape her lips. _And Lord Rog had said all those years ago that she had a tongue of silver… _She bit her lip harder that time. _How many things had death changed for her?_

She lapsed into silence, it only being broken by Elladan’s gently pleas for her not to fall asleep whenever the danger arose. _Head wound… how could she forget the standard procedure for those? _Sure elves were tougher than humans, but she’d hit her head. She’d hit it badly. _And it was a damned rock that had done the damage. _She wanted to go curl up under a larger rock and hide away in shame. _She’d never quite matched the grace the rest of her kin seemed to have in oodles, and her short time in mortal skin had seemingly affected her more than she realised. _Who’d ever heard of an elf taking themselves out on a rock?

Her eyelids drooped as the sunlight faded away slowly, eyes starting to glaze over in sleep for a few moments before Elladan shook her back awake. _She just wanted to sleep. Wanted to dream and try and forget the madness she’d woken up to. _She bared her teeth in a grin. _Who knew? Maybe she’d wake up in hospital with this all just being a dream. _She snorted softly. _It was no dream. It explained everything, from her fear of fire to the dreams and nightmares she’d been having._

“Lady Anna.” Elladan shook her awake yet again, but this time something was different. That something being the lights of an elven settlement which twinkled merrily under the stars. “We have arrived.”

Anna grumbled something incomprehensible, a tightness in her stomach as she was gently lifted down off the horse, exchanging Elladan’s oddly comfortable shoulder for Elrohir’s. _It was anticipation. She was anticipating something. What, she didn’t know. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. _“Please stay awake a little longer, my lady. Elladan has gone to fetch our father.”

The world spun, the brightness of the lights only growing that much stronger as she was taken inside the nearest building. She groaned pitifully, acutely aware all of a sudden of every injury on her body, and her stomach twisted yet again. She felt sick. Horribly sick. Dried blood had crusted on her temple, matting her hair into clumps, and yet it still bled – a testament to the danger of pointy rocks and why not to fall on them wherever possible.

She was such an unlucky elleth.

_She only hoped that fact changed sooner rather than later._


	3. Answers

Head wounds were not fun to deal with, whether the recipient were elf or human. Anna wasn’t too sure exactly when she’d decided to pass out, but when she woke she was no longer being carried like a princess. Instead, she found herself on top of one of the comfiest beds she’d ever laid on, _and that was including Shannon’s memory foam mattress. _The thought made her flinch ever so slightly. Her second death was still far too fresh, and she’d never really gotten over her first. She hadn’t spent enough time in the Halls of Mandos for that. _She hadn’t regained the primitive innocence and grace of the eldar… if she’d ever had any of the latter to begin with… well, she didn’t think she had, but perhaps her time amongst mortals had impacted that. Either that or she was just sent back because of him. Because he was too important. _Anna sighed, gingerly reaching up to touch at the bandages wrapped around her temples. Sure, elvish healing was far quicker than that of the edain, but it didn’t mean all wounds vanished after one healing session.

Still, at least her head wasn’t pounding as much as before. She could barely remember having a headache like the one she had before her first death.

_The sound of her name was static to her ears as her head ached. “Are you well?”_

_“I am fine,” she grumbled, looking determinedly away from the golden-haired ellon creeping ever closer. His concerned stare made her stomach flip and her cheeks redden – there was no way she was going to let him see that last reaction though. “Stop hovering around. All is well, so be on your way.”_

_She tried to reassure herself it wasn’t disappointment she felt when he did as she’d asked._

Anna buried her face in her hands, groaning quietly. She didn’t want to remember things like that. Didn’t want to remember how much of a shy and cowardly elleth she’d been when it came to her feelings for a stupidly sacrificial golden-haired idiot. Really, living as one of the edain for thirty odd years had really changed her perspectives on things. _Something that would no doubt be integrated back into her elvish mindset soon enough – so she’d stop thinking of them as separate. _Anna, that name was part of her, part of the elleth whose name she couldn’t remember.

She felt lost. She was lost. _All because she couldn’t remember two measly names. _Though they weren’t really all that measly. They were important. So important… and she loathed the fact she couldn’t recall them.

The door clicking open had her eyes snapping back open, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling as two unfamiliar elves walked in close behind one another, the lady bringing in a cup of a drink she knew to contain medicinal herbs. The smell was certainly strong enough. They were both dark-haired, just as both Elladan and Elrohir had been, and Anna had the distinct impression they were related, both to the twins she’d met and each other.

“You have woken,” the lady spoke, pressing the cup into her hands, and Anna took it without protest. Her mind was oddly numb despite the obnoxious pounding in her head. “I am glad. My brothers feared you might not wake again because they did not find you soon enough…”

Anna blinked, staring between the cup laced with pain relief and numerous other types of herbs she couldn’t quite place. She’d been a warrior rather than a healer for a good reason, despite the number of incidents which brought her in front of one. _That number was irritatingly high, and she had a horrible feeling it’d only grow higher with the days ahead of her._

“Drink. Your head hurts, does it not?” the lady continued, and Anna sipped from the cup, barely tasting the _wonderful _concoction. Medicine never tasted nice.

Her tongue felt heavy as the words rolled from it. “Who are you exactly?”

“I am Arwen. Well met, Anna,” she spoke, smiling widely, and Anna was reminded painfully how beautiful the eldar were. _Well, compared to the mortals she’d been living with for the last few years_. “My brothers spoke to me about you,” she explained, before gesturing to the taller elf standing by her side. “This is my father, Lord Elrond, who wishes to speak with you… especially regarding your memory difficulties.”

“Well… met…” she mumbled, relaxing back against the headboard of the bed she sat on as she tried to figure out what to do and what to say, because there were going to be questions. There were too many unknowns for there not to be. _Everyone was suspicious. Especially in war._

“My sons tell me you have trouble even remembering your name.” His voice was smooth and clear, and it cut straight to the heart of the matter. “That you came to in the wilds without a clue of how you came to be there.”

Anna nodded, swallowing back her apprehension. _What he was saying was technically true. _She had no idea exactly _how_ Mandos had thrown her into that particular part of the forest.

He took a seat in the chair nearby her bed as his daughter moved to change the bandages on her feet. “Would you perhaps be able to tell me the last thing you remember? Anything to do with your parentage or birthplace would be ideal to aid us in ascertaining your identity.”

Her mouth went dry, and she sipped at her bitter medicine, setting it down on the bedside table before she stared at her hands. _She couldn’t tell him about her mortal years… but the last of her elvish memories… _Her hand went to her neck, examining the unblemished skin there. _It had been burnt before. She could still smell the scent of her flesh burning. Still remember the sticky sensation as burnt skin met the burnt tissue of her bloodied fingers. _Her body had been a patchwork of second and third degree burns by the time she’d died. Funnily enough, the place most untouched had actually been her face. Everything underneath that had been fair game apparently though. Anna shuddered, reminding herself that _she wasn’t there. She wasn’t in Gondolin. Gondolin was destroyed – along with all the records of her birth. _But she could hardly tell Lord Elrond that. She didn’t particularly want anybody to connect the dots and figure out she’d died. She still wasn’t over it, and it was a private affair. _She hadn’t been strong enough to survive, and the thought burnt at her pride. Talking about that fact would only make it worse. _Plus there was the fact that she wasn’t ready to face _him_, _and if he lived there he’d no doubt be called to see if he could identify her._

She didn’t want that. It couldn’t happen. She couldn’t risk it. There was too much she didn’t know still. _She didn’t even know the date yet._

Panic clawed at her chest, but Anna was too preoccupied with those spiralling thoughts that _she wasn’t ready to face him. Wasn’t ready to talk about how she’d died in a burning city however many months or years ago. _“Anna?” Bright grey eyes peered into her bluish ones, the hands on each of her shoulders warm and comforting—_not burning like her neck was. _“Anna! Calm yourself. You are safe here within the walls of my father’s dwelling.”

Anna blinked, staring at Arwen as she dragged herself out of her thoughts, hand moving down to rest over her aching chest as her breathing slowed back to its normal rate. _Well if that didn’t blare the warning signs that something was up, she didn’t know what would. _Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. _Why couldn’t something not go wrong for her for once in her extraordinary long life?_

A loud sigh escaped her, and she desperately tried to dredge up a happy memory with which to distract herself. She smiled softly, sinking back into the soft pillows as she recalled the first time she’d met the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower after reaching her majority.

_The hallways were long and decorated with paintings and tapestries, each depicting something different, whether they be warriors, scholars or scenery. She sighed quietly to herself, eyes lingering on stitching of a golden armoured warrior. Male, as most of them tended to be, and something stirred inside her. A feeling she couldn’t quite place. Admiration? Longing? _

_Shaking her head, she continued on her journey to where her mother had asked, books and scrolls in hand as she walked towards the office. There were quite a lot bundled up in her arms, but she’d long since perfected the art of balancing scrolls and the like with one arm, so shifting them into one hand to knock on the door was a simple task._

_“Enter!” the clear, musical voice rang out cheerfully from inside._

_Vaguely, she wondered what sort of elf could sound happy whilst being forced to do paperwork. Her father had more often than not complained it was the bane of his existence more than once when she’d passed his study in the evening._

_The door opened with a small click, and she let herself into the office without any fuss. “My parents and their associates asked for me to bring you their quarterly reports,” she said, peering around the large stack of various paperwork she carried._

_“Ah, take that to Lachon.” The golden-haired elf behind the desk nodded to the ellon standing on a ladder in front of the tall shelf taking up one entire wall of the airy office. “He will sort that out, and I shall look over that this evening.”_

_Nodding, she walked over towards the ladder, ignoring the nobly dressed elf standing beside her Lord’s desk, talking to him in hushed tones as she offered the stack she carried up to the silvery-haired ellon on the ladder. “Can you manage it all at once?” she asked, musing whether she should split the pile in two or not._

_“If one such as you can, I am sure I am similarly—”_

_She almost blinked in surprise as his arms gave way seconds after receiving the stack of assorted scrolls and heavy tomes, his foot slipping, and then he was falling to the ground. _

_“Lachon!”_

_She barely registered the shout behind them, already moving, foot lancing out to catch the pile of books while her arms darted out to catch the falling elf. It wasn’t in her best interests to be the part of the cause that sent another to the hospital, and a nasty fall would’ve done just that. Plus it wasn’t the greatest impression to send to the lord of one’s house. “Are you well?” she asked, staring down at the ellon safely bundled in her arms._

_“Uh, yes,” Lachon mumbled, looking vaguely shell shocked, and the slightest bit of comprehension flickering in those brown eyes of his. “If you could set me on my feet again, I would be most appreciative,” he said, and she did as asked, handing him a smaller portion of the hefty pile of paperwork to take back up the ladder with him before gathering the few scroll and books that had escaped her._

_“You are Estion and Talviel’s daughter, are you not?”_

_She blinked at the sounds of her parents names. “Yes?” she spoke, swallowing slightly at the sight of those enthusiastic grey eyes locking on her._

_“Have you decided on which profession you would like to enter into yet? You recently came of age.”_

_“I have not just yet,” she said, stepping back under the feeling of those eyes fixed on her. It was unnerving – being the centre of someone’s attention._

_“Well there are training sessions taking place in the courtyard at the seventh and eighteenth hours. Do feel free to come along, I have a feeling you will fit in perfectly,” he said, smiling brightly, and she blinked yet again, brain struggling to process exactly what was going on. Had he just invited her to training with the rest of the warriors of the House of the Golden Flower?_

_“Uh, I will, thank you,” she said, almost stumbling over her words. Almost. “Well I will be on my way then…” Her hand fumbled behind her for the door handle, relief sweeping through her as she twisted it open without having to break eye contact with the intent stare of the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. “Have fun with your paperwork.”_

_She hurried out into the corridor, shoulders sinking in relief as she felt those eyes turn from her retreating form._

_“Have fun with paperwork?” the black-haired ellon by the desk spoke. “Now that is just a precious thing to say. How adorable…”_

_“No poaching my house members, Ecthelion.”_

Her lips curved into a nostalgic grin, and Anna sighed yet again, relaxing into Arwen’s touch. It was comforting to be surrounded by her kin after all those years in the mortal world. Their presence made the world seem that much brighter for some reason, and she was far more sensitive to that after her stay with Rochel and her other dear friends. _She ignored the pang in her heart that came with those names. _She just needed to weather those thoughts. _Remember that she’d lived the best life she could with them before moving on as she was supposed to. _She’d weather it and that grief would fade in time. _She only hoped it wouldn’t be replaced by more grief. She’d had about as much of that as she could take._

“I suspect my questions will have to wait a little while,” Lord Elrond spoke. “Perhaps until you have fully recovered from your ordeal in the forest? I will see to your housing arrangements for your stay, Lady Anna, so please do not stress yourself so.” He stood, and Anna stared at him, confusion and numerous questions she couldn’t ask racing in her mind. _Why would he leave a strange elleth who’d arrived at his doorstep unquestioned and unsupervised? She could be anyone… and yet something told her this strange elf lord was anything but foolish. _She bit her lip. _Though if he was smart enough, he’d likely try to figure things out for himself, at least partially, by observing her and listening to any details she might let slip. _The truth always came out eventually. It was just a matter of time. _A matter of time until she was forced to face him again, and Anna wanted to hold that off for as long as possible. _“Rest for now. Healing takes time, especially when it comes to those wounds which cannot be seen by eye.”

She felt her eyes narrow. _Lord Elrond was no idiot, and he was watching her curiously even then. _Those grey eyes glinted with knowledge and power, and he’d been looking at her like she was his next puzzle. _There was no mistaking the fact he’d figure everything out eventually. She recognised that telling gleam in his gaze._

“Might I enquire as to how long I have been here?” she asked, hoping to get some idea of the date without asking for it specifically. _It wouldn’t do to make the game too easy. _

“You were unconscious for seven days and seven nights after my sons brought you into my care,” he said, grey eyes fixed on her own. _They were so different to her own lord’s, but oddly similar. They’d both held positions of power – and they’d held them for reasons._

She swallowed, barely concealing the scowl as she was forced to ask the question that had been bugging her ever since her arrival on Arda. “And the date?”

“October the seventeenth,” he answered, staring at her levelly as she made her face as blank as possible. _Maybe it was only a year or two—_ “Of the Year 2139 of the Third Age, if you really want to know.”

Anna felt something shatter inside her mind, her face unnaturally still as she nodded dully in response to his answer. Her ears were ringing, and she barely heard Arwen say her farewells minutes later as the sunlight began to fade and dusk eventually fell. _The Third Age. _Her hands shook, and she stared down at them, mind unnaturally blank in that instant as she tried to process the bombshell that had just been dropped on her. _She was in the Third Age. _Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot and heavy. _The last date she remembered was in the Year 510 of the First Age. _A sob escaped her, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she kept her crying as quiet as possible. _Just how much had she missed?_


	4. Revelations

The revelation that she was living in the Third Age took a while to sink in. There was no denying the fact she’d been thrown back into Middle Earth thousands of years after when she’d left. _When she’d died. _Anna stared around the darkened room. She didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way it reminded her of those halls forever bathed in darkness, _a blanket of glowing starlight shapes high above her head the only vague source of lighting. _Pale moonlight flitted through the open doors, the flimsy white curtains fluttering in the cool breeze. _But she wasn’t in the Halls of Mandos, nor was she on her mundane little earth. _She was in Arda, though she still had no idea whereabouts in Beleriand she was – only that she was in a settlement called Imladris.

It seemed peaceful there, though, and for that Anna was grateful. She doubted she’d have been accepted so easily, had things been chaotic or if there’d been a war on their doorstep. She might’ve woken up under guard otherwise, until her motives had been proven. As it was, she was left to mourn in private. _Mourn the years she’d lost, and the city she’d seen fall. _

Her feet carried her outside, her eyes and face dry, her tears already having vanished, and she’d hidden all traces of her little crying session as best she could. Her pride had demanded it so. _The same pride and idiocy that had left her facing five balrogs. _She’d wanted to prove the golden idiot wrong, and… _she hadn’t wanted to watch him die when she could’ve done something to prevent that outcome. _She was selfish like that. _How could someone as pure and honest as that golden-haired idiot loved her the way she loved him?_

She huffed, sinking into the seat on the small balcony, a wicker one with a nice comfy cushion she pulled her feet up to. The view was different. Everything was different. Anna stared out across the moonlit city, mind already drawing up all the differences to all the times she’d stared out across Gondolin. _The word was like ashes in her mouth. _Imladris was more earthen colours. More wood as opposed to white marble. More silver as opposed to gold. Less gleaming armour. Less fountains scattering a rainbow of colours across the pavilions.

_No House of the Golden Flower._

_No purpose._

She tucked her chin into the groove formed by her knees, staring determinedly at the ground, that same thought ringing out through her mind. _The Valar chose wrong. _They should have just sent her back to the Halls of Mandos. That was where she’d slipped out from. She wasn’t supposed to be outside the dark halls. She wasn’t ready.

_She hadn’t accepted anything._

All of a sudden she stood, gripping down on the fencing around the small balcony as if it could change something. Anything. _She could still hardly believe everything that had already happened. _But it wasn’t like she could press a rewind button. Stone cracked under her grasp, her expression dark as she stared out across the night skyline. _At least the stars were the same… well, aside from one of them… _Her shoulders sunk, and she brushed her hair back from her forehead, glancing down at the slight indents she’d made in the stone. _She had the overwhelming urge to hit something… _and seeing as there was nobody there to watch over her, she left the room. There was too much energy pent up inside her. Too many volatile and conflicting emotions. She needed to hit something, and then she needed to read. _She was already tired of having bombshell after bombshell dropped on her._

_Tired of having to believe them because all the facts were in alignment._

The night air was cool on her skin, the breeze shielded from her by the buildings all around her as she walked out of the House of Elrond, the darkness hiding her as she slipped into the forest. After all, the best place to find things to hit were either in the training grounds or out in the woods. Seeing as she had no idea where the training grounds were, nor if they’d be open in the seemingly peaceful little valley, the woods it was. _The armour everyone wore was completely different to that which she’d used to, indicating just how peaceful the place was. _It was nice to think of that fact too.

_Imladris wouldn’t fall like Gondolin… would it?_

Anna missed her sword and shield, a hiss escaping her as she slammed her fist into the nearest tree, _mentally apologising to the poor creature of nature. _She was an elf through and through, so she was fond of trees and forests. They were enjoyable to walk through and admire – especially when there were no wolves or orcs trying to kill oneself. Her knuckles slammed into the bark, the rough texture biting at her fragile skin. _Death really had done a number on her. Both on her mind and her body. _A wounded noise escaped her, fists taking her pent up aggression out on the tree in front of her, uncaring at the blood which spattered across her face as her skin tore. _It felt nice to feel something physically, even if it was just pain. _It sent a thrill through her, and the tears leaking from her eyes made her feel slightly better about the entire situation. _About her entire mess of a life that seemed to be spiralling uncontrollably. _

“Damn it… Damn it all,” she muttered, punches turning into feeble little hits, her hands throbbing as she dragged her fingers down the ruined, cracked bark, uncaring of all the splinters that had no doubt worked their way into her skin. “Why?” her voice broke, her heavy breathing the only thing audible in the quiet of the forest. She curled her hands back into fists, wincing as they throbbed. _Served her right for all her stupidity. Why had she even tried to face five balrogs in the first place? If she hadn’t done that… _Tears dripped down from her chin. _Then the golden-haired idiot would’ve done it. _One hand shook as she lifted it, clutching at her aching chest. The pain in her hands was nothing compared to the ache there. _He was such a stupid idiot in that manner. _Blood trickled down her fingers, and Anna sighed. _But that was part of why she’d loved him._

He’d always been so bright, so cheerful, and it had made her happy to be around him… _even if he was busy wiping the floor with her at sword practice. _A choked sob sounded instead of laughter. _He was even better at archery than her, and he didn’t even specialise in it. That had been Duilin. _

She wanted to go back to those times.

Back when everything was simpler. Back when her parents were still alive, no matter how much they nagged at her. _Being married hadn’t saved them from the Fall of Gondolin. _They’d always warned her of strange fates and how they might await her. _Hindsight was a bitch. _Everything was as strange as it could get, and it hurt.

A light touch made her jump, cursing silently as she realised someone had snuck up on her. “Lady Anna?” a familiar voice sounded, and she spun to see the silvery grey eyes of one of the twins staring at her with a hesitancy that made her wish she was back in her room so she could hide under the duvet. _Like she’d used to do as a little elfling._

_“I’m a fully grown elleth, not an elfling!” _the words rang in her brain, and a bitter smile crept onto her lips. She looked pitiful, and she knew it. Her pride bristled at the thought. _She could still remember the ridiculous number of times the golden-haired idiot had ruffled her own hair in the first few weeks of her training because of her pitiful state. Perfect patting height, he’d claimed it to be. _Broken laughter sounded, and it took her a moment to realise it was coming from her. _Maybe that was why she’d harboured such a great dislike of the idiot in the first place… before she fell in love with the imbecile. _

She wanted that familiar hand to ruffle in her hair. She wanted him to tell her everything would be alright. _But how could she face him after that horrified look he’d given her? How could he tell her everything was going to be alright if he hated her?_

Arms wrapped around her all of a sudden, yanking her out of her spiralling thoughts, making her blink through tear-filled eyes at the unfamiliar contact. _How long had it been since she’d been hugged by her kin? _There was a certain comfort only hugs like that could give – and it was that which she realised she sorely needed as her hands came up to clench in the tunic he wore. Her knuckles burnt, dried blood cracking, and fresh blood dribbled down, staining the grey fabric.

“My sister saw you leaving and wished for me to bring you back inside. This night is rather cold, and you lack a warmer robe, though I believe my mother will be soon seeing to that since you are a guest of our house,” he said, and Anna closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. “Are you well enough to head back? Or would you prefer me to carry you?”

“I can walk,” she mumbled, pulling away from the warm embrace. _The reminder she wasn’t alone. _Sighing quietly, she turned back the way she’d come, walking towards the lights of the elven dwelling, her heart ever so slightly lighter than what it had been when she’d left. _Only slightly. Grief still lingered in her very soul, fraying at its edges._ She could feel the arm behind her, whether to comfort her or ensure she didn’t somehow further injure herself she didn’t know. All that mattered was that he was there. _He’d seen. _Anna bit at her lip. _How pathetic had she looked?_

“You need not worry. Grief is perfectly natural, and reactions to it are nothing to be ashamed of,” he spoke, as if reading her mind. _And she was acutely reminded of most of her kin’s uncanny empathic sense. Yet another thing she’d never quite managed to get a handle on. _She was such a horrible elleth. _One that he couldn’t have ever loved. _Her imagination was just a bit wild. That had to be it, no matter how much that idea made her heart ache.

She’d just have to learn how to live with it.

_Just like she’d have to weather the storm of grief surging through her. _She had no desire to slip back to the Halls of Mandos yet again. _But that was easier said than done._

“I see,” she murmured, if only to fill the silence threatening to fall. “Thank you for coming to find me then.”

“Come,” he said, hand touching her shoulder yet again. “I believe my sister will want to tend to your newest wounds sooner rather than later.” A wince crossed his face as he stared at her splinter infested hands, and Anna could hardly blame him. They weren’t the nicest things to look upon. “Trees are never the greatest to strike with ones bare fists. Perhaps pillows next time?”

Anna chuckled mirthlessly. “Pillows would not give me the same amount of satisfaction.”

“Then perhaps an aggressive spar with a willing partner? Though if the damage done to that poor, poor tree out there is any indicator, you might have a bit of a search for that,” he said, smiling at her, and Anna could see the hesitance in his eyes though his voice betrayed nothing. _He wasn’t used to dealing with grieving elves. _Then again, with how peaceful things seemed to be, she could hardly blame him for being unsure of the ways to comfort another.

She only really knew how to comfort others thanks to the _stupid idiots _who’d been the warriors of the House of the Golden Flowers. _If someone was lost on a brief trip outside of the city for whatever reason, then it was down to them to support one another and the other parties involved. One big happy family. _At least until their world had crumbled down under blood and flame. She shook her head, ridding herself of those thoughts before the aching in her heart could come back twice as strong as before. _Gondolin was gone. The House of the Golden Flower was gone. _She stepped back inside, heading straight back to her room, unsurprised when she met Arwen inside.

“Please, sit…” Arwen spoke, more a command than anything else. _And she was fairly good at following commands, except the ones she deemed stupid, of course._

Anna sat opposite the taller elleth, offering out her hands, even as one of the twins hung about in the doorway. “Thank you,” she mumbled, unsure of what else to say as splinter after splinter was pried out of her skin under the watchful gaze of the twin she presumed to be Elladan – especially now that he stood in the light.

She didn’t flinch in the slightest, only humming under her breath as she waited for the ordeal to be over and done with. _She’d been treated by healers all too often. _Bandages were wrapped around her broken knuckles, and strict instructions were given to avoid punching things for the next few days at least.

“Might I enquire as to where I could find the library?” Anna asked, climbing back to her feet as soon as the bandages were fixed in place. “I fear I will not be able to find any more rest tonight, and I do not particularly wish to be stuck with only my thoughts for company.”

“The library is on the next floor up, second door on the left once you head up the stairs. It is close by my father’s office, if that is any guide at all,” Elladan said, his smile still in place. “I can show you the way if you would like?”

Anna shook her head. “Thank you for the offer… but I wish to be alone for the time being.” _Not to mention she didn’t want anyone curious as to what she was reading, nor what her reactions would be to information such as that._

Maybe she’d be able to piece things together with more information.

_It couldn’t hurt anymore than it already had, after all._


	5. Ignorance

Anna sat in the library, staring blankly at the ceiling. _Beleriand had been sunk. _It was lucky she’d somehow managed to refrain from asking where the hell in Beleriand she was. Imladris wasn’t in Beleriand. Everything she’d known was gone in some shape or form – whether it be the people who were dead or the cities whose ruins she’d never be able to see. Gondolin was under the sea, never to rise again. Rather than making her cry though, the thought just made her feel horribly numb. It felt like she was lost at sea – every revelation a wave that came to batter her ragged soul. “Brilliant,” she mumbled. “Just brilliant…” Anna resisted the urge to laugh. _She didn’t particularly want to look even more insane than she already did. _The scholar sitting at the table nearby was already occasionally sending her a concerned glance or two. Her head made an audible thud when it clunked against the hard wood of the tabletop.

There was no going back to how everything was. That much was certain. Lifting her head from the desk, she threaded a hand through her hair. _Her life was an absolute mess. _But there was nothing to do… _Nothing to do except move forwards with everything and bury her past. _A humourless smile found its way onto her lips. “I guess that is what I will do then,” she said, pushing away from the table, leaving the library quietly. _She really ought to get some rest at least. _Maybe it would help heal her mind.

But all she dreamt about was him.

_Him_ and the beautiful white city they’d both once dwelt in.

_The scene she walked in on was both adorable and hilarious at the same time. It was early morning, the sun just peeking over the horizon, and somehow she’d been designated on paperwork duty yet again. What exactly her lord had to do with the sheer amount of paperwork he always received at the start of each month, she had no idea. All she knew was that she had to collect the paperwork from its tray and ferry it up to her lord’s office – and that was exactly what she was doing. _

_She’d finally announced the career path she wanted to pursue, much to the concern of her parents. But it was that which she thought would make her the happiest. She’d never been one for dress-making or tapestry weaving. She had little skill with painting too, and she didn’t have the patience for music. So being a warrior it was._

_She bounced up and down on her feet. Her first training session would begin too in a matter of hours, and she was excited for it. Though she knew it would undoubtedly take her years to polish her skills up to a somewhat decent level. She could be patient for that much, especially with her weird strength. _

_Knocking on the door, she entered the office of the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, blinking at the oddly cute scene she was greeted with. Golden hair was splayed across the desk, half of it braided, half of it loose, with grey eyes glazed over in sleep. She edged closer, not wanting to disturb her resting lord, but the wet stain on the table by his lips made her snort. _

_Who knew their esteemed lord drooled in his sleep?_

_It was adorable, and rather amusing to observe. Setting the paperwork down on a clear patch of his desk, she bit her lip, silently deciding on what she should do. She could leave him, obviously, but clearly he still had things to do. Shaking her head, she reached out for his shoulder – clad only in his white tunic, rather than the golden armour he usually wore. “Lord—”_

_A hand closed around her wrist almost instantly, and then her back slammed into the ground. She grunted, blinking at the heavy weight of the elf lord sprawled over her now instead of the desk. “Five more minutes, Ecthelion,” he grumbled, nuzzling into her stomach, brow furrowing ever so slightly as he continued to nap blissfully._

_She blinked, not quite sure to make of the position she now found herself in. Her pride demanded she punch some sense into him, but her brain sternly reminded her he was the lord of her house. She couldn’t punch him. _

_She couldn’t._

_She wouldn’t._

_Her eye twitched, fury seething beneath her skin as he continued making himself comfy on top of her, just in time for the door to swing open. A vaguely familiar black-haired elf made it four steps inside before his cheeks puffed out and he snorted at her predicament. Bluish-grey eyes narrowed on the sterling silvery ones, a grimace on her face as she silently ordered him to aid her. Her glare bore into his amused stare, and eventually he decided to take pity on her._

_Static sounded as the elf called his name. “Wake up already.”_

_“Just a few more minutes, Ecthelion,” her lord grumbled, nuzzling further into her stomach. The elf she now recognised as Lord Ecthelion only sniggered at the pure exasperation on her face. “You are squishier than usual, -lion,” he slurred, and she was roughly five seconds away from getting violent – lord of house or not. “Comfy…”_

_“Get up.”_

_Grey eyes flickered, blinking a few times to clear the glaze of sleep, staring up at Ecthelion for a few moments and then she felt him stiffen. Those annoyingly pretty eyes then turned to look at her, but he made no movement to get up and off her._

_“I am not your pillow, you oaf,” she hissed, irritated out of her life. He’d damn well invaded her personal space, and he didn’t seem to be apologetic about it in the slightest. She liked her privacy and her family wasn’t as enthusiastic about hugs as others were. “Get off me!”_

_He chuckled, rolling off her, climbing to his feet smoothly, offering out his hand. _

_She didn’t take it._

_Scowling, she pushed herself to her feet, glaring at him all the while as she waited for him to say something. Anything. An apology for being used as a pillow was what she required. But he just smiled sheepishly, and her temper finally boiled over. He’d used her stomach as a pillow – surely it was fine for her to use his stomach as a punching bag._

_Her fist slammed forwards with an enraged snarl, but being the well-trained warrior he was, he dodged it with little effort and her knuckles met the stone wall behind him. Pain reverberated through her arm, blood leaking from the broken skin of her knuckles. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she blinked them away fiercely, barely concealing the snarl as she swung to face her irritating lord. “Stay still and let me hit you,” she snarled, lifting her undamaged hand as the two elf lords eyed the small crater in the wall. “You used my stomach as a pillow, so it is perfectly fine if I use yours as a punching bag!”_

_Her golden-haired lord glanced helplessly at Ecthelion. “You are on your own for this,” he said helpfully. “You are the one who napped on her.”_

_“It was an accident!”_

_“And so is this.” Her grin was all teeth as she stepped towards him, good fist at the ready. “So stay still and take it—”_

_“No thank you?” her lord said, all but sprinting out of the door, his voice reaching her as she hurried to follow. “And you should really visit the Healer’s Ward—”_

_“Get back here!” she snarled, chasing after him, vengeance the only thing on her mind as he ran down the hallway, laughing merrily all the way._

_“Are your legs too short to catch up?”_

_A snarl and scream of frustration was her only response as she pelted down the corridor after her annoying lord. He was dead when she caught up with him. So very dead._

A fond smile pulled at her lips as she blinked up at the ceiling of the room she now occupied inside Imladris. _She never did end up catching him that day. _Shaking her head, she pulled herself out of bed, stretching her arms above her head. _But she wasn’t supposed to be looking at her past anymore. She was meant to be focusing on her future and the present. _No more moping around for her. No more punching trees either. She glanced down at her bandaged hands, pushing away the memories of how many training injuries that had been bandaged back in Gondolin as she got ready for the new day ahead of her. _The beautiful white city of her memories and dreams was long gone. There was no point in lingering on that thought either. _She had to move on, and desperately she clung to that idea. _Moving forwards would make everything alright again._

The knock at the door made her jump, and she spun, hurrying over to see who was outside her room. She hadn’t really been expecting anybody but given her wounds and the fact she didn’t even know where the dining hall was, she was fairly certain the person out there would be helping her on her merry way. _There wouldn’t be any more golden-haired elf lords to chase down the corridor. _A sigh escaped her, and she pulled the door open, blinking at the taller silvery-haired she-elf she was met with.

She had the height, beautiful silvery grey eyes, and the figure Anna had always dreamt about having. _Being short sucked when the rest of ones race was ridiculously tall. _“Good morning?” Anna mumbled, realising she was staring – and staring was rude. _Unless it was at a certain elf lord, or the people she classed as friends._

_But she didn’t have any friends there. _The thought made her heart pang, but the breath-taking smile directed her way by the pretty elleth made that vanish. _She could make new friends. _Fists clenched in determination, she waited for the other to introduce themselves. “You are Anna, are you not?”

“That is me,” she said, nervously shuffling on her feet as she waited in the doorway.

“Well met. I am Celebrían, and my husband has told me much about you,” Celebrían spoke, and Anna stepped out of her room, blinking as she was guided along the corridors.

“Husband?”

“Elrond,” she answered, and Anna nodded in response. _That certainly made sense. _“He asked if I would show you to the dining halls and wherever else you would like to venture… though I do not believe the baths would be the best place, given your injuries.”

“I am well aware of what not to do with these on,” Anna said, gesturing to her bandages. “I have been lectured enough times,” she mumbled, quashing down the tears that threatened to rise as her thoughts circled back to everything she’d lost. _But she wasn’t going to focus on that. The future was more important. Her future was going to be happy. Somehow. Someway. She’d make it work._

The sound of footsteps met her ears as they rounded the corner, and then Anna found it ridiculously hard to breathe as golden hair flashed in her peripheral. Those same footsteps sped up as they passed her and Celebrían, and Anna forced herself to continue walking. _He’d walked past her. In fact, he’d sped up and avoided looking in their direction as he’d passed. _He hadn’t even seen her.

Anna didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed at that fact.

_But he was there._

“Ah, do not mind him,” Celebrían said, noticing her somewhat puzzled expression, and Anna blinked as she realised that the elleth with her knew her golden-haired lord. _She knew one of the two names she’d forgotten._

“Who was that?” she asked, brow furrowed, anticipation stirring in her gut as she waited on the name she needed to know. The name she should’ve known.

“That was Glorfindel—”

Celebrían’s voice faded out.

_“Does Lord Glorfindel really—”_

_“Glorfindel!”_

_“—my Lord Glorfindel—”_

_“Where are you going, Glorfindel?”_

_“Laurefindel!”_

“Anna, are you well?”

She blinked, pushing away the cacophony of memories that had suddenly stirred. “I am fine, worry not.”

“Still,” Celebrían continued, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, “I am surprised you do not know of him… though I guess with your memory troubles that is only natural.” Her smiled brightened. “Heed not his actions. He is… rather uncomfortable around silver-haired ellith and tends to avoid us whenever possible,” she continued, ignorant of how Anna’s stomach dropped to her toes at those words. “My husband believes there to be some sort of trauma behind it, and we both hope to help him overcome this—”

Anna stumbled, face unnaturally flat as she tried to recover her equilibrium. “I see,” she said, silently vowing to herself never to reveal that she was indeed the cause of his trauma. _She doubted anything would end well in that case._


	6. Ideas

Boredom was something she was unused to feeling, particularly as an elf. Gondolin had her daily training and interactions with the people that might as well have been family. _Annoying older brothers who enjoyed teasing her and making cracks about her height. _As a human, she’d always thought of elves as being noble and wise. _Remembering her life as one made her laugh at the thought. _Wise they were, but that didn’t mean they were above teasing and jokes – especially between their kin. The House of the Golden Flower was gone though, and she was alone, unsure of what to do with all the free time she suddenly seemed to have.

She was terrible at most of the crafts she’d tried, and none of them had ever particularly called to her. Tapestry weaving had been more of her mother’s skill than her own, and painting had been her father’s. She had neither of those talents. _She only had her freakish strength. _Caught in her musing, she wandered outside her room, sighing quietly as she tried to figure out what she could do. She didn’t like doing nothing. It wasn’t in her nature.

“Lady Anna!”

Anna blinked owlishly, pulling herself from her thoughts, spinning around in the mostly empty corridor to stare at the brunette who’d called her. _One of the twins – one of the few people she knew. _She smiled, tilting her head as he approached. “May I help you?”

Elladan smiled, simply falling into step with her as she walked. “I was just curious as to what you were doing here all alone…”

Anna’s smile dimmed. “I do not know many people here, nor am I particularly good with any craft… I have nothing to do, and I do not fancy being cooped up in my room all of the time.” She glanced over towards the gardens, glancing between them and the large paintings hung from the wall opposite the windows. “I trust there are no objections to that.”

“None,” Elladan spoke softly, “but would you like some company on your walk? Me and my brother do enjoy exploring places, whether they be my father’s halls or the forests beyond. We do have time outside of our patrols and our spars.”

Her head snapped around, blush-grey eyes peering into his grey ones. “Spars?”

It was Elladan’s turn to blink in surprise. “Lady Anna, perchance do you remember being a warrior in your hometown?”

Anna nodded. “I remember the training at the very least,” she said, smiling wistfully at the memories of all her spars. _Most of which she’d lost_. “It is rather hard to forget.”

Elladan chuckled. “True. You have never attended one of Lord Glorfindel’s sessions, though. I doubt anything else will compare once you do,” he said, and Anna barely withheld her laughter. _He had no idea about that fact. _Dimly, she wondered how his training in Imladris compared to everything he’d put her through in Gondolin. “Speaking of which, there is actually one taking place in the training grounds at this very moment,” he continued. “Would you like to go and see? You could join in on the next one if you wished it so. I highly doubt my father would object. Besides, if you want something to do to alleviate your boredom, I would suggest signing up for patrol. Me and my brother will help ensure you are in fighting shape.”

Her eyes fell to the floor, brow furrowing. Part of her wanted to go. _She wanted to see him, even if she’d somehow traumatised him somehow. _Well, she’d stolen what she was fairly sure to be his first kiss before running off on a suicide mission. _Wounds of the heart took a long while to dull. _Mentally, she shook her head. _Hatred also took some time to subside… was that why he couldn’t bear to look at silver-haired ellith? Perhaps just by looking at those with her hair colour he was reminded of her selfishness. _“I heard from your mother that Lord Glorfindel is not fond of those with silver hair,” _with her, _“so I do not wish to distract him as such, especially in the midst of such an important task.”

“He will not see us, I promise,” Elladan said, waving her worries away as he led her away from the hallways she’d been exploring. “There is a walkway which runs by, and it overlooks the main training grounds. Besides, I highly doubt he would see you as a bother. He is a friendly person, and rather approachable once you grow closer to him.”

“Very well then,” Anna mumbled, though there was little point – they’d already arrived, sunlight glinting off the lightly armoured figures a few stories below. _It was similar to that which she could recall from that white city, though far less exhausting from the looks of things. _A smile pulled at her lips. _It seemed he’d gotten a better idea of restraint when it came to ‘pushing one’s limits’. _

“Think you would be up for joining them?” Elladan glanced over at them, and Anna shook her head. _There was no way in hell she was going to a place Glorfindel would be sure to notice her. He hated her. It was so obvious. _Her stomach twisted in knots, and a small voice in her head whispered to her.

_Coward._

Her face darkened, forehead wrinkling as she frowned. That word burnt at her obnoxious pride. _She hated acting so cowardly. _But she couldn’t muster the strength she needed to drag herself in front of the golden-haired elf lord.

_Coward, _her mind hissed again, and Anna sunk ever so slightly under the weight she could suddenly feel hanging over head. She straightened her back, standing up to her full height – which was still annoyingly short – refusing to bow under that weight. _It would just take a little bit of time. She’d definitely face him some day. There was no doubt about that. Absolutely no doubt. _“I would prefer it if I could train with you and your brother for a short while, perhaps?” she asked, smiling hesitantly at him, silently begging him to accept and not pressure her to join in the larger group training. “I fear my skills have become a tad rusty, and do not wish to embarrass myself in front of others… It would not make for a very good first impression now, would it?”

“Ai.” Elladan scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I did not think of that, my lady,” he said. “I will ask my brother, and we shall see about letting you loose in one of our smaller training grounds… Perhaps after that father will allow you to accompany us on patrol.” He bit his lip, looking slightly apprehensive. “Father usually insists that Lord Glorfindel accompanies us when we head out in small groups… in fact, he was meant to accompany us when we found you, but there have been an increase in orc incursions as of late.”

“Then I suppose it is all the more important for me to be ready to head out on patrol,” she spoke, feeling an odd hint of excitement bubbling up despite the tension tearing into her stomach. “One more well-trained warrior may not be much, but it can only help the situation.”

“Right you are, Lady Anna.”

“Speaking of which,” Anna mumbled, scratching at her cheek. “You do not have to keep calling me ‘Lady Anna’ all of the time. Anna will suffice. You and your brother are the ones who rescued me and are some of the few who I have interacted with during my stay here. I think we can be a little bit more familiar than that.”

“I see.” He nodded. “I shall come and find you tomorrow, should my brother agree to the training.” He smiled. “It should be nice to have another partner to practice against, no matter your skill level.”

“I will see you tomorrow then.”

* * *

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough, and Anna was practically bursting with energy by the time Elladan finally dropped by with his brother in tow. She answered the door with a wide smile, relief coursing through her as Elrohir offered her a set of tunic and trousers in her size. _She’d only had a small number of dresses Arwen had left for her, and none of those were suitable for exercising in. _She didn’t particularly want to ruin any of the few pieces of clothing she had. _She was a guest in the House of Elrond. _She didn’t want to betray their kindness and willingness to take her in after all the questions she’d practically refused to answer for them. She didn’t want to be that much of a burden either. _She hated being a burden, like she had on those patrols and missions they’d been sent on back in Gondolin._

She wasn’t weak anymore. _Never again._

“Do you need us to go through any drills with you?” Elrohir asked once she was dressed and ready and walking beside the pair of them towards. “Or do you feel as though you remember enough?”

Anna smiled. “I suppose we shall just have to attempt a spar to see where I stand… though I would rather like it if you take me seriously, at least in the first bout.”

Elladan nodded. “Of course. It would be an insult otherwise… and it is a good idea to get a grasp of your abilities.”

“Shall we wear any extra padding, or would you be more comfortable unhindered by such?” Elrohir queried as they arrived in the little pavilion. “Though you may be more likely to earn a few more injuries in the latter situation… and I am not too sure our father would be pleased with that, given Lady Anna’s tendency to gain injuries.”

Anna felt her eyebrow twitched.

That seemed to be yet another thing that had remained the same. _She was a complete and utter injury magnet. _She bit her lip, huffing quietly. _Typical._

“We will be using blunted training blades, brother,” Elladan said, hurrying over to the covered weapons rack, revealing a multitude of weapons – from spears, to swords, and unstrung bows. “I think there is a limit as to how injured we can become.”

Elrohir only raised a sceptical eyebrow at his slightly more carefree brother. “If you insist,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Though before we begin sparring, we ought to get warmed up. The last thing I want is to have to carry two imbeciles to the Halls of Healing for pulling a few muscles on top of a multitude of other things.”

Anna folded her arms. “And just who are you calling an imbecile?” she asked, lifting a curled fist.

“Yes, brother,” Elladan said, slinging an arm around her shoulder, staring pointedly at his twin, fist lifted to match her own stance. “Just who are you calling imbeciles?”

Elrohir only smirked at them smugly. “You two, obviously.”

She glanced sideways at Elladan, the pair of them sharing a nod, and a warmth built up in her chest. It was a familiar warmth. One she’d felt long ago when the warriors of the House of the Golden Flower were together – even without their lord there to supervise them. They grinned as one, bright white teeth showing as they turned back to their other companion, mischief twinkling in their eyes. _Vengeance would be sweet._


	7. Dances

The warmup was light compared to the ones she’d done previously, but it got the job done, and she bounced nervously on the balls of her feet. They wore light padding at Elrohir’s insistence, though Anna could barely feel the weight of it. Despite how weak she was after her trip to the strange world and her abrupt return, her unnatural levels of strength hadn’t changed all that much. _Though she wasn’t too sure she could say the same of her stamina. _Her strength was somewhat lacking compared to her earlier years, _but for now it was enough. _Anna drew the training blade, smiling as she locked eyes with Elladan. _Here’s to hoping maybe she’d be triumphant in a sparring match. _

Her mind decided to flee elsewhere though in her fight, body moving on the instincts she’d thought were long dead as her memories took her back to Gondolin. But rather than all the sparring and the excursions our of the city, she was reminded of a night within the beautiful city. A night where the House of the King had been opened to members of all twelve houses of the Gondolindrim. It hadn’t been a battle of swords. _More like a battle of wits._

_The night was warmer than most, a light breeze floating through the city as she followed after her parents on the banquet they’d been invited to. She was a warrior of the House of the Golden Flower, so it was doubly important that she attended to represent her lord. Unlike other houses, aside from perhaps the House of the Fountain, their warriors were the pride of their house – the ones ensuring the city was safe, rather than taking history down or forging various weapons and tools. Every house had their duties, and patrols and ventures outside the safety of their city were taken by them or the House of the Fountain. That was one of the reasons her lord and Lord Ecthelion were so close._

_Sighing quietly, she made her way along the alley leading to the grandiose palace, careful not to get the skirts of the finest dress she had dirty. It was a pale silvery colour, golden embroidery done carefully, forming patterns upon patterns of celandine. The flower was commonly used amongst those in the House of the Golden Flower despite their standard bearing a different pattern, and their lord’s love of the flower hardly went unnoticed either. She’d woven many a crown of the flower as a little elfling, and even to that day she enjoyed braiding them into her hair. Not that she had many friends with which to relax with. The only ones she had were her parents and the warriors of the Golden Flower… and her irritating lord too._

_A smile pulled at her lips, not even dimming as she caught sight of Lord Glorfindel as soon as she arrived. He also caught sight of her and her parents, which was why he started making his way over towards them. Sighing once again, she readied herself to face the cheerful, teasing, goldenness that was the lord of their household._

_Static sounded when he spoke her name. “A pleasure to see you here, and I see you have brought your parents along with you as well,” he said, quickly turning to greet her parents before he turned back to her, finally taking in her dress and the golden embroidered celandine which matched the ones stitched onto the mantle he wore perfectly. “It seems as though we are coordinated rather well.”_

_“Celandine have always been a favourite of mine, my lord,” she said, well aware of the sharp elvish ears no doubt listening to their conversation along with several others at the same time. The serial gossipers, as well as the house in charge of keeping everyone in the city informed as to what was going on thrived off events like these ones. And she didn’t want the particulars of the less than stellar relationship she had with the lord of her house spread amongst the city. Some people were terrible gossips, but she could hardly blame them. They all had their vices and their virtues._

_Though admittedly she had yet to discover many of the vices of her annoyingly perfect lord. _

_“It seems as though we have that in common,” Glorfindel spoke, a gentle smile on his face. One that probably broke hearts – though not hers. She’d grown immune to the sunny smile and the training demon it hid. “Though, if I may, my lady, I would very much like it if I could escort you to the dancefloor. I believe I must dance at least once before the night is out, lest I wish to have the other lords complain or doubt my skills.”_

_She raised an eyebrow. It was certainly the most polite and wordy she’d ever seen her lord. She could indulge him, she supposed. Their dress did compliment each other’s. “Will you simply be escorting me there, or do you wish to dance with me as well?” she asked, clasping the proffered forearm. _

_“I wish to invite you to dance, my dear lady warrior,” he said, a smile on his face as he all but purred the words, and she was abruptly reminded that swordplay and the intricate, solid footwork needed could also be constituted as a dance of sorts._

_She smiled somewhat reluctantly. Of course the training demon of the Golden Flower would think of swordplay at a time like that. “Then I shall accompany you,” she said, tapping him so he leant down so she could whisper in his ear. “But make one offhand comment about my lacking height, and your toes will be thoroughly bruised by the end of the night.”_

_Glorfindel chuckled at her threat. “You have my word, my lady.”_

_True to his word, there were no remarks about her lacking height from him at the very least. The cheers of the other warriors of their house though were another matter entirely, and she found herself sorely wishing she’d be able to beat them in the next sparring session they attended. Though the logical side of her remarked it would be a long time indeed before she could topple them from their seats. He was just as skilled of a dancer as she’d expected, which was very, though the dance ended without her stepping on his toes even once. Though she was sorely tempted to at moments, but she was above such temptations._

_She nodded to her lord as their dance came to an end, eager to escape, and escape she did. She was successful in endeavouring to avoid Lord Glorfindel for the rest of the night. At least until she heard the quiet commotion upon finishing her visit to the ‘powder room’. There were five of them there, all lords of their houses – ones whose warriors had recently held a joint training session with the House of the Golden Flower._

_And they were complaining about the insanity of the training._

_A smile curled at her lips. Training demon indeed. She turned to leave her lord to defend himself and his methods, pausing in the archway leading back to the main hall when she heard no response from her lord._

_“Your training is too harsh!” the tall black-haired one spoke. “All the warriors of my houses were exhausted and barely able to make it to their homes after every single training session.”_

_“I must agree with Pendelot,” the silvery-haired lord she vaguely recognised as Egalmoth added. “If you are training your warriors as harshly as that, then you are running your house into the ground.”_

_One eyebrow rose as her lord simply stood there, and her eyes widened as she spotted the confusion in his gaze. And Ecthelion, who usually supported him, was nowhere in sight. Her brow furrowed, and Glorfindel took a step backwards, deep in thought, and she decided she’d had enough._

_Besides, now she could make the elf lord owe her one._

_Her shoes clicked against the tiled floor, the slight heel added to her shoes boosting both her height and confidence slightly as she strode towards her idiot of a lord. “Actually,” she spoke, walking to the side of her lord to stand with him. “I think you will find that the training sessions run by our lord are adequate. He is not, as you so eloquently put it ‘running his house into the ground’. If ever we felt that a training session was too harsh, then we would bring this matter up to our lord here.” Her eyes narrowed, meeting the grey ones suddenly fixed upon her slight form. “We trust our lord, and through fire and storm we will follow him no matter where he goes. Complain about the sessions my lord kindly ran to aid your warriors all you like. But never think you have the right to complain on behalf of the Warriors of the Golden Flower. It seems you know not half of what we are capable of,” she finished, turning and glaring pointedly at her golden-haired idiot of a lord who was staring at her as if he’d seen her in a new light. “And you,” she grumbled, grabbing him by the collar of his robes. “Next time some idiots question you about matters related to your house, have some damned confidence in your decisions. You are our lord, and everyone trusts you. Trust yourself some.” She released him without another word, turning on her heel, hurrying away as she realised she’d just called four elf lords idiots._

_Oops._

Anna chuckled at the memory, parrying the blade that sliced towards her, moving closer, using every last bit of her strength to gain the upper hand. Elladan had been surprised by her strength at first, and now he was wary of it. She pressed her advantage as best as she could, doing her best to draw a tie, if not a victory for herself. But strength wasn’t always everything. There was always strategy and experience which went hand in hand. _And despite technically being born far later than her, Elladan had more experience in live combat – though admittedly, the fighting had been harsher and fiercer in the First Age. _

Her foot lashed out, blade already deflected away, boot slamming into his stomach, and she wasted no time in taking advantage of Elladan’s winded state to level her blade to his throat. “I do believe this is my win,” she said, pulling her blunted sword away, offering a hand to help him back to his feet.

“Well,” Elrohir mumbled, coming to stand by them. “I think it is safe to say Anna will have little to no problems joining both the patrols and the sparring sessions held three times a week,” he spoke, taking Elladan’s blade from him, spinning it around in his hand with a practiced ease. “We can confer with father after I get to spar. I must say, your strength, from what I saw is rather impressive. Lord Glorfindel would probably enjoy sparring against you once you have a few more tactics up your sleeves… Your fighting style does seem to be based for overwhelming your opponents with strength rather than strategy.” He grinned. “Let us hope neither of us earn too many injuries before we go and see father. He may be displeased otherwise.”

Anna smiled.

_She always had been a bit of an injury magnet._

_It was after that same party at the King’s palace that she’d found herself in the Halls of Healing. Sprained ankle, the healers had said, and she glared at her shoes. Of course she’d just had to fall down a set of stairs and twist her ankle in ways it wasn’t meant to be twisted right towards the back end of the gathering._

_“Somehow, I knew I would find you here…”_

_The familiar voice made her stiffen, head snapping around to eye the golden-haired elf as he strode out of the shadows. “What do you require?” she grumbled, in no mood to deal with her idiot of a lord._

_“I see all the politeness has vanished with the party.”_

_“Of course, I simply do not wish for there to be gossip after events such as these ones,” she said, glaring at him as he took a seat at the side of the bed she way lying upon. “The House of the Golden Flower does have a reputation to uphold.”_

_“That we do,” he murmured._

_“Speaking of the party, are you not meant to be there…?”_

_Glorfindel tilted his head, humming as he stared out of the window and up at the moonlight. “I should be, yes… but I think I would much rather enjoy some peace and quiet with you…”_

_She stared at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Suit yourself.”_

_“That I will,” he whispered so softly she barely heard._

“Are you ready, my lady?” Elrohir asked, taking his stance, but no sooner than he had done that, a loud bell rang out across Imladris. The twins stiffened, and Anna’s brow furrowed at the concerned glances they shared. “I think this duel will have to be postponed,” he said, putting both his and her swords back on the rack, hurrying through the corridors. “Come.”

“What is the matter?” she questioned, biting her lip as they all but ran through the halls.

Elladan didn’t answer her question, instead asking his own. “Anna, how are your healing skills?”

“Basic at best.”

“Well, at least you have some training,” Elrohir mumbled. “You can assist me and my brother – our father has trained us in the healing arts, though we will not take on too difficult of cases.”

Anna blinked in confusion. “What is going on?”

“That bell…” Elladan said, leading her through yet another set of hallways, his face grim as they arrived outside the Halls of Healing. “It means a patrol has returned with numerous severe injuries.”


	8. Delusions

The Halls of Healing were a bustle of activity, elves with varying degrees of injury sitting of resting on cots in the main ward. Elladan and Elrohir walked right past those – they could wait a little longer, and there were some healers already seeing to the more grievous of the cases there. _But Anna knew the private rooms would be were the worst of the injuries would be. _A small sheepish smile pulled at her lips. _She’d certainly been in enough of those rooms to know that much. _There had always been a certain golden-haired lord to chastise her after. _He was always so high and mighty, giving her orders and instructions. Ones she loathed to follow. _

“Anna, with me,” Elrohir spoke sharply as they approached the familiar form of Lord Elrond after he'd slipped out of one of the rooms.

“Father,” Elladan greeted. “Whom should we attend to?”

“Elrohir, please take the second door on the left, Elladan, the right… Lady Anna—”

“Is with me, father,” Elrohir said, hurrying past towards his assigned room. Anna nodded briefly at the elf lord as she passed, following after Elrond’s son, ignoring the way his brow furrowed as she approached the door.

Anna hurried after the twin, eager to be away from the wise, knowing stare that seemed to bore into her. _Seemed to whisper that he knew everything – there was nothing she could hide. _Anna hated feeling exposed, especially to someone she didn’t know all that well. _She could cover up that feeling amongst the few she’d used to call friends with bluster and words. _She couldn’t do that there. Sighing, Anna entered the room, stomach dropping like a rock as she realised why Elrond had looked slightly worried by her entry to the room.

Golden hair was splayed out across the pillow, eyelids thankfully closed _but that fact itself was rather worrying_, and the elf who’d been tending to _her lord _glanced between them in relief as the door clicked shut behind them. “Lord Glorfindel is not gravely injured, but there are complications,” the elf informed them, grey eyes narrowed on the flushed face of _her_ lord. “There was a foul concoction on the blade which wounded him so… and it appears to have worse effects than the usual poison which coats their blades.”

“He will not die from such a poison,” Elrohir mused, lifting his hand from Glorfindel’s brow, having made his assessment with a quickness that spoke of years of experience. _No doubt their father had drilled the basics into them over the years, given his proficiency in the arts of healing_. “But the kinds of poisons those _yrch _use tend to cause fever and delirium in our kind as sturdy as we are. They are more fatal to those of the edain…” He bit his lip, glancing at the elf. “Prepare the usual medicine, hurry. With any luck, he shall hopefully regain consciousness long enough for us to force it down his throat, and that should offset the worst of it.”

“Well, you certainly put that eloquently,” Anna said, a smile on her lips, despite of Glorfindel’s presence. “What would you have me do?”

“Clean the site of the wounds for me. I shall prepare the needle and thread,” Elrohir ordered, and Anna complied. _The safety of her lord was at stake, and despite her reluctance to reveal herself – thanks to the hatred which had to have built because of her selfish actions – she didn’t want him to die or linger in pain longer than necessary. _

Nodding, she found the necessary tools to complete such a task, carefully cleaning at both the gash on his upper arm, and the significantly nastier wound to his gut. One which fortunately hadn’t pierced any of his internal organs. _Otherwise things would’ve been far messier. _Blood was only trickling out rather than gushing out, _as it had from numerous of her own injuries once upon a time. _Her gaze softened, heart thudding painfully at the sight of his sweaty, sleeping face. Smearing the paste to numb the area around each of his injuries, she stepped back, only watching as Elrohir got to work with skilled hands.

Anna rested her back against the wall, her job done, and watched as her companion continued to work. She respected those that ventured into the healing profession. _She’d had her wounds treated far too many times to not be respectful to those who’d saved her life on more than one occasion. Healers were terrifying creatures when interrupted in the midst of trying to save someone’s life. _She pouted slightly at the memory. _It wasn’t like she’d chosen to wake up and become confused while they were stitching her up. _Glancing out the window, she froze, silently wishing she could suddenly become invisible as she heard the tell-tale signs of her lord’s awakening.

“Good. You are conscious, if slightly delirious,” Elrohir’s murmur reached her, and she didn’t even have to look to know he had some foul-tasting concoction ready to pour down the elf lord’s throat the moment he was able to. “Now drink, and swallow,” he ordered, and Anna smirked. “Excellent.” Elrohir stepped back. “I shall ask father to come and look over my work as soon as he is able.” His eyes met hers, and Anna felt a sliver of dread creep down her spine. “Anna, would you mind verily if I asked you to watch over him for the time being?”

She barely withheld the grunt. “It would be my pleasure,” she mumbled, struggling not to stutter her words, watching with pleading eyes as Elrohir soon hurried out of the room, not bothering to pull the door to in his haste as he left. _And probably moved onto his next patient. _Sighing, Anna bandaged both her lord’s wounds just as she’d been taught to, relaxing ever so slightly as she realised he’d fallen back asleep. _He couldn’t see her. He wouldn’t see her. _A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she found a damp cloth with which to wipe at his brow. Her other hand went to his cheek, fingers tracing his cheek as she stared down at him fondly. “You idiot,” she whispered. “What are you doing becoming all cut up?” she murmured, voice unbearably soft. “I am supposed to be the reckless one, not you.”

Anna smiled, knowing he couldn’t reply as she placed the used cloth in the small bowl of cold water and pulled her other hand away as well. _Glorfindel would be fine, and she doubted he would need a babysitter. _She ought to follow after Elrohir and make herself useful. Turning to hurry out the door, she froze at the hand which snaked around her wrist all of a sudden. “No.” The sound was croaked, and yet still sounded so unbearably beautiful. “You cannot leave,” he slurred, and Anna spun back around, bluish-grey meeting storm-grey as she stared at the face of her lord. His eyes were cracked open. _He was awake_. “Not again.” She was frozen at those words, unable to even think about yanking her hand away with all her might. _She stared into those oh so familiar eyes, heart thundering in her chest. _Even injured as he was, he was still strong, and Anna was half terrified and half frozen in anticipation. _Of how he’d berate her. Of how he’d hate her so. _“Never again.”

A simple jerk of his arm was all it took to topple her suddenly rather precarious balance, and then she could only wince in pain as her nose collided harshly with his chest. Anna blinked, stiffening as she felt the arm and leg which quickly wrapped around her, pinning her there against his chest. _What exactly was going on? _She swallowed, her throat dry all of a sudden.

“Meleth nîn…” Sleepy grey eyes stared down at her. “I will not let you go ever again.”

Anna blinked, vision blurry all of a sudden as something trickled down from her eyes. _She was crying. Crying because those words weren’t spat in anger. _There was only tenderness in his gaze as he stared down at her and how closely she was snuggled to his chest. Warmth built in her gut, an odd tingling sensation spreading from her stomach, and Anna relaxed. At least until the small voice in the back of her head spoke up yet again. _The same one that had whispered of how he had to hate her, and how cowardly she was. _But this time it said something she couldn’t refute.

_You don’t deserve him. Coward._

Anna bit her lip, hiding her face in his chest. She'd read about him in the texts she'd poured over, and she knew how revered he’d become. _Who was she to match up to that? Who was she to receive the affection of someone like that? _She was weak, even more so than she’d been before. All her confidence had seemingly vanished after both her deaths. All she could do was…

_Run and keep running, because that’s all you’re good for._

But she’d stood and fought back in Gondolin—

_But you aren’t the same anymore, are you?_

The tears continued to fall, and Anna burrowed into the warmth – _but only to wipe the tears from her eyes_, seeing as her arms were pinned to the sides of her body by an idiotic lord who clearly wasn’t thinking straight. He had been poisoned after all, and it was one of the kinds that caused fever and delusion.

But if he wasn’t thinking straight, then he was probably saying what was on his mind without any cares to filter the words.

_Pathetic._

Anna flinched at the words in her head. _Was she really that pathetic? That pitiful. _She shook her head, pushing the sound of that voice away. She needed to get away from the idiot of a lord. She needed her space, until she was ready.

_And you won’t ever be._

Scowling, Anna squirmed, but all that earnt her was a tighter hug. “Let go of me, you oaf,” she hissed, silently wishing he wasn’t injured so she could punch him until he let go. _But alas he was a patient in the Halls of Healing, and one who’d only recently been stitched up too. _She was hardly going to try and undo all of Elrohir’s hard work. _Elven healers tended to become rather scary when their hard work was ruined. _

A soft snore was all that greeted her, and Anna realised _her absolute imbecile of a lord _had fallen back asleep. And she couldn’t get him off of her either, without risking reopening his wounds. _Or giving him new ones. _Anna pouted furiously.

“Stupid, imbecilic lord,” she muttered, quickly clamping her lips shut as she heard the door creak back open. _Only she was hidden from sight thanks to an idiotic lord clutching her to his chest like she was his favourite cuddly toy. _

Elrohir made a sound of confusion. “I had left Lady Anna to tend to him but…”

“It matters not,” Lord Elrond said. “Let me see your work, and then I believe we should break for lunch. It is being served in the dining hall as we speak, and all other patients have been tended to.”

Anna chose that moment to stick her head up as best as she could, glaring at the pair as their stares locked onto her awkwardly positioned form. “Help would be appreciated,” she said, staring at the both of them flatly.

In the end it took the pair of them, as well as Elladan, to pry her from Glorfindel’s ridiculously strong grasp, and Anna left soon after that, muttering quietly about, “golden-haired idiots who always grabbed onto her whilst they slept.”

_She still hadn’t gotten around to using his stomach as a punching bag, like she’d once promised the first time the idiot had done that._

* * *

It was late evening when she eventually went to find Lord Elrond. Both Elladan and Elrohir had vanished after lunch, doing something Anna had no clue about, so she didn’t manage to find them to help enquire about her joining the patrols of Imladris. _She didn’t want to be idle for much longer, and being a warrior was all she really knew. _He wasn’t in his office, and a kind ellon named Erestor had directed her towards the Halls of Healing. That was apparently the next best place to search if the elf wasn’t near his office.

She strode through the halls, heart thudding in her chest when she spotted the light in Glorfindel’s room. Her stomach dropped to her toes when she heard Lord Elrond’s voice coming from that room too.

“The number of orcs is certainly a concern,” Elrond spoke, concern lining his tone. “For them to overwhelm you to such a degree…”

“I am fine now, old friend,” Glorfindel said. “Though I must thank you for patching me up so well. It should not take much time until I am back at full strength and ready to lead my patrol out once again…”

“I am afraid you have my son to thank for that,” he replied, chuckling good naturedly – a far cry from the worry his previous statement had held. “You had quite the fever, but luckily it has passed, and quickly so.”

Anna paused a little way from the door, hands clenched so tight her knuckles turned white as she listened to the pair of them. _He was so close… and this time he was fully conscious. _

“I had the most wonderful dream though,” Glorfindel murmured, and tears pricked Anna’s eyes as she remembered just how tightly she’d been hugged. “I wish it could have lasted a little longer.”

“And what did you dream of? I daresay I have never seen you quite so relaxed as this…”

She could feel Glorfindel’s smile in his words. “I dreamt I held her in my arms once more.”

Elrond blinked. _Anna wasn’t quite sure how she knew what he did, but she knew he was blinking in confusion. _“Ah. About that…” he said. “You may want to apologise to Lady Anna, or at least pass on that sentiment.”

“Lady Anna?”

“The elleth my sons found in the wild. She is currently having memory troubles thanks to a wound she received whilst out in those lands,” Elrond said, heedless to her presence there in the Halls of Healing. “She has silver hair and wound up assisting Elrohir with your treatment. Elrohir gave her skills praise for their swiftness, though they are basic as they come.”

Glorfindel was silent for a few moments, his voice oddly sheepish when he spoke again. “What exactly did I do?”

“It took me and the twins to pry you off her,” Elrond said flatly, and Anna smiled wistfully, turning on her heel and walking away as her mind whispered to her yet again.

_Run, and keep running… because a coward is all you’ll ever be._

She was just a delusion to him right then and there. A face brought on by the fever from the poison… and that was probably the way it ought to stay. For the moment at least.

_Coward._


	9. Pride

“You wish to join the patrols?” Elrond stared at her, and Anna stood her ground, staring right back into those unnerving grey eyes that still whispered he’d uncover everything eventually. Celebrían was in the office with him, her expression one of concern as she voiced her request.

“That I do,” she said, nodding sharply. “The only thing I recall being good at is fighting, and I have enough experience. I was a warrior before, and I wish to be one once more.”

“You have started to recall your memories then,” Elrond mumbled, hand going to his chin as he considered her request.

“I have, though my name still remains static to my ears,” she said, careful not to give too much away.

“Any memories of your city?” He glanced over at her sharply, and Anna barely supressed the sudden urge to flinch. _Gondolin. She was from Gondolin. The city that fell the hardest. The city she died in. _Her hand went to her own neck, memories of fire and flame surging to the forefront of her mind, and her stomach rolled. _She still remembered the scent of her own charred flesh. _What a disgusting smell that was…

Anna shook her head, wincing. “All I remember is that it was beautiful…”

Elrond raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press further, instead turning the topic of conversation back to her wish to join the patrols. “Lord Glorfindel—” Anna flinched, _because of course their golden warrior was in charge of patrols _“—is in charge of assigning patrols. It would be best if he assessed your skills and assigned you to one of the patrols based on that.”

“Ugh.” She shuffled nervously on her feet, barely managing to conceal the quiet grunt that left her lips. “I did spar with your sons a couple of days ago… would they be able to give an accurate assessment of my abilities?” she asked, praying he’d say yes. _She’d made up her mind to avoid her precious lord. She wasn’t worthy of him, and she was a damned coward. Afraid of him. Afraid of the fire that crackled in the hearth in the dining halls, given that winter was fast approaching. _She crossed her fingers behind her back, praying that somebody out there would show her mercy.

_And it seemed somebody was listening to her pleas. _

“Very well.” Elrond nodded. “I will send someone to inform you once my sons and Glorfindel have conferred on this topic. Rest well until then and do feel free to attend the training sessions in the meantime.”

“Of course,” Anna said, despite having absolutely zero intentions of taking part in training under her golden-haired training demon. _She couldn’t bear to go near him. Everything pressed down on her when she neared him. _It felt like something was choking her. _Like that balrog’s whip once had. _She felt like she couldn’t breathe properly around Glorfindel. The walls seemed to close in on her, and the voice in her heard only grew louder. _It fed off all her insecurities, especially those related to a certain idiot who’d once led her old house._ Yet another reason why she was better off staying far far away from him.

“Your help will be much welcomed,” Elrond continued. “After this latest incident… these woods around us may be becoming more dangerous.”

“That will not deter me.”

Elrond smiled for once, and Anna felt herself relax ever so slightly as he dismissed her. She hurried out of his office, blinking as she nearly ran straight into Arwen.

“Anna. How wonderful it is to see you up and about…” Arwen’s smile turned slightly impish. “I see you have not earnt yourself any more injuries either.”

Anna chuckled sheepishly, falling into step with the taller elleth as she walked through the corridors aimlessly. “It has been a good week so far,” she said by way of explanation. “Hopefully it shall remain injury free, though my luck has never been the greatest when it comes to these things.”

“Did you used to earn yourself many injuries then?” she enquired, and Anna hummed in confirmation.

“I was reckless more often than not, which unfortunately earnt me many trips to the Halls of Healing,” she said, chuckling fondly at the memories. _Of how she’d been carried carefully towards the healers by those deceptively strong arms… and how more often than not she’d been slung over his shoulder. _Anna shook her head, desperately ridding herself of those thoughts. She needed to focus on making sure she was ready for patrols. _This time they wouldn’t be done by foot on the edges of the white city. _She was going to be venturing into the forest. _And forests could hide threats very well, if the enemy knew the terrain well enough. _

“I do believe we have all been a tad reckless at least once in our lives,” Arwen said. “I do not think it anything to be ashamed by. It is something you learn from.”

Anna chuckled mirthfully. _She’d never quite learnt from all her recklessness. _Well, not until then at least. “That we do…” she murmured. “That we do.”

* * *

“Anna!” A knock at her door came, eager and horribly loud in the emptiness of her room. Groaning, she clambered out of bed, making her way over to answer. _Her habit of once rising with the sun had ended with Gondolin. _“Anna!”

She opened the door, peering blearily out, blinking as she was met with the faces of both twins. “What is it you require?”

“Guess who will be accompanying you on your first patrol in an hour’s time,” Elladan said, smiling widely as her gaze sharpened. “Speaking of which, you ought to dress yourself accordingly. I believe my mother took you for a fitting a matter of days ago, so your armour should be in your closet by now.”

“Then I shall get dressed,” Anna remarked, closing the door before they could get another word out. Splashing water over her face helped refresh her, and soon enough she was dressed and ready to head out. Though she would freely admit she felt slightly naked in the light armour. What she’d worn before, while heavier and more restricting, had been a lot more durable. _She just hoped her luck would hold out. _Maybe it had changed after her death. There hadn’t been any strange incidences in the mortal world.

With that thought in mind, she emerged from her room, blinking in surprise when she found the twins waiting there, fully armoured, carrying unstrung bows and sheathed swords, one of each of which was pressed into her hands. “Come. We should head down and introduce you. It bodes well to know the names of the individuals who will be guarding your back in the days to come.”

“How far out does each patrol head?” she questioned, wondering just how many days she would apparently be absent for. _The city patrols had always taken a night at most, but, as her brain liked to remind her, she wasn’t in Gondolin anymore. _

“It varies, but the furthest we will head out is to Weathertop or atop the passes of the Misty Mountains behind us.” Elrohir paused, worry overtaking his expression as he thought. “Though given how badly one of the last patrols was injured, I doubt we will venture as far as such. Our father’s main concern is locating the source of where these orcs are coming from.”

“Once we locate the source, we eradicate it?” Anna asked, eyebrow raised.

Elladan nodded. “That would be the plan.”

“Even if it is discovered for them to be coming from a fair distance away?”

Elrohir nodded that time. “Given the injuries we had to tend to, this cannot go on for much longer… lest we wish for some of our number to perish.”

“And we do not hope for it to come to that,” Anna mumbled, chewing at her lip. _Dimly she wondered if there was anything odd about the timing of things… _She had been sent back, just as the number of orcs were increasing around Imladris. She supposed it was rather fortunate she had not run into any whilst she’d been injured and weaponless. _Else she would have been easy prey for those fell creatures, and if there was one thing Anna hated being, it was an easy target. _She took pride in her strength. In hindsight, perhaps a bit too much pride… But that was getting her off topic. _Did the Valar also want her to do something about the orcs? _Was she supposed to be of aid in finding their source? Sighing, she followed after the twins as they began walking through the corridors – most of which she was still unfamiliar with. “Why can things not be simpler?” she grumbled, sighing as Elrohir and Elladan led her to just outside the stables, where whom she presumed to be the patrol group milled about. _And thankfully there was no golden-haired lord waiting to ambush her there. _She still hadn’t received her apology for being used as a body pillow. _For what had to be at least the third time in her long life._

“Elladan… Elrohir… you finally arrive…” A silvery-haired male turned to face them, chestnut brown eyes locking on her seconds later. “And you must be Anna. Well met.”

“You are?”

“Oh. Excuse me for not introducing myself. I am Lendor,” he said, smiling sweetly at her. “Come. We should acquaint you with the others. Elrohir has praised your abilities quite highly.”

Anna turned inquiringly to the twin in question, eyebrow raised.

Elrohir shrugged. “You are fairly skilled in the scheme of things, especially with that brutish strength of yours… even if you are abysmal at thinking up any sort of strategy to get them in the position you want them to be.”

Scowling Anna quickly followed after Lendor. _She’d always been reminded in Gondolin that she needed to learn how to take control of a fight. _“This is Baralindir,” Lendor spoke, gesturing to the tall burly red-haired ellon as he held the reins of two horses. “I believe he has chosen out your mount too.”

She blinked as a set of reins were pressed into her hand, staring between the white mare and the red-haired elf who simply nodded at her before leading the other horse off. Lendor followed behind, leaving her along in the stables with her _new _horse. Anna glanced between the gleaming saddled mare and the open stall Baralindir had led the horse from, eyeing the plaque fixed there – not that she needed to look at it, but it was nice to confirm. “Lossenloth…” Anna mumbled, petting her newfound companion. “That is a bit of a mouthful, but I suppose it suits you verily,” she murmured, glaring at the stirrups moments later. _They had been put down to the usual height, which mean she’d no doubt have to shorten them. _“It always has…” Anna closed her eyes, remembering the mare she’d ridden on journeys out of Gondolin. _Lossenloth. _“I wonder how many incarnations you have been through…” A neigh was all the response she received and Anna pressed her face against the white mane, inhaling the scent. _It felt slightly like home… but she had only ridden Lossenloth when going to and from the city on their lord’s orders. Never inside the city. _“I am back… and you shall be taking me out of this city for patrol…” Anna stepped forwards, ready to lead her mare back towards the rest of the patrol she was joining, but a jerk on her braided locks froze her in her tracks. Her eye twitched. “Of course…” she muttered, scowling as she turned to find the similarly coloured horse in the stall behind her. “How did I know you would not be too far away from your precious Lossenloth…?”

“Anna?” Lendor chose that moment to hurry back around the corner. “Is your—Oh. I see Asfaloth is at it again…”

Anna glared back at her childhood tormentor as Lendor hurried forwards to assist her. _She’d made the mistake of visiting the stable of Gondolin when she was just a child and had been mildly terrified of horses for a little while after that. _And it was all due to a certain horse with a penchant for snacking on silver hair. The same horse who was doing just that. _Again. _The same horse who tended to join her Lossenloth when they were out in the fields together. The same horse who belonged to her irritating lord.

“My apologies,” Lendor spoke, struggling to free her hair from the horse that seemed to enjoy tormenting her along with his lord. “I should have warned you… Lord Glorfindel’s horse seems to have a penchant for chewing on silver hair. I have been a victim of it more than once.”

“I see…” Anna said, pulling herself away from the source of her childhood trauma, glaring at the annoyingly familiar horse. _Somehow her hair had given the horse an acquired taste – because after reducing her to tears that first time, the stallion had only ever gone after silver locks to chew on. _The non-silvery-haired portion of Gondolin, had been somewhat thankful to her for that. The silvery-haired portion, less so. _But it wasn’t like that was her fault. _“Never mind that. We should be on our way.”

“Indeed.”


	10. Patrol

Following after Lendor, Anna made her way back to the pavilion where the other patrol members waited, each of them standing by their chosen horse for the journey. _Some elves weren’t as fortunate as her to have a horse to call theirs and only theirs. _Lossenloth had been a wild one, and it had taken her five months of determination and broken bones for the wild white mare to acknowledge her as her rider. _It had also taken five months’ worth of horse treats too, but Anna didn’t like to think on that. _She liked to think it had been all her hard work and skill rather than persistent bribery.

“You are Anna, are you not?”

Blinking, Anna turned, spying a similarly dressed elleth standing a short ways away from her, holding the reins of a bay mare. “That would be correct. I am afraid I know not who you are though…” she said, staring intently at the brunette. _There were a lot of brunettes in Rivendell, hair colours such as hers and her lord’s being that much rarer than they were in Gondolin. _

“My name is Gwestriel, well met,” she spoke. “I am happy to have another elleth on this patrol. More often than not it is solely me and the rest of these fools…”

“You still call us fools?” Another brunette peered over at them. “How mean, Gwestriel… we have saved your life more than once.”

“And I have saved yours a similar number of times,” Gwestriel declared, flicking the speaker on the forehead. “Anna, this is Renion.”

Renion waved weakly, eyes flickering almost instantly onto Lossenloth. “A pleasure to meet you,” he spoke, silvery grey eyes glancing between her and her white steed. “I see Baralindir chose you out a troublesome companion for this patrol.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Troublesome?”

“Were you not aware?” He stared at her, eyebrows raised. “Lossenloth is rather finnicky about who her rider is… though you do share some similarities with the people she has allowed to ride her before.”

_Of course… how could she forget? _“I shall be fine, I believe,” Anna said, petting her horse yet again, glad to be back with her. _A memory of older, happier times. _

“If you believe it so,” Renion mumbled, looking as though he did not believe her in the slightest. “Come, let us introduce you to everyone.”

There were fifteen of them in total, almost twice as large as the usual force of eight. _It wasn’t quite as large as the groups of twenty who’d left Gondolin though. _She could put names to faces for six of them so far. _Only eight more to go. _

In the end she only managed three more before swinging herself up into the saddle. Lirion, the best singer out of the group, Mîchon, who was rather small for an ellon, and Therion, the scariest looking elf of them all – coincidentally the best marksman out of them all too. He was in charge of hunting for their meals whilst out on patrol, usually taking the two other black-haired elves with him when he went, or so she had heard from Elladan.

“Are you ready for your first patrol?” Elrohir glanced over from where he rode next to her, hooves clopping against the tiled roads as they made their way towards the very edge of Rivendell.

“Of course,” Anna said, relaxing with the familiar weight of bow and blade as Lossenloth carried her smoothly into the forest much to the surprised glance of Renion.

“Scared?” Elladan asked from her other side as they rode at the very front of their group. _Elladan and Elrohir were both in charge of this particular patrol, which might’ve been how she’d ended up on it. They might’ve picked up on her hesitancy around Glorfindel… _but Anna could only really be grateful for that. She would rather be on patrol with the troublesome twins rather than slinking about at the back of the patrol desperately avoiding _his _eye.

Scoffing, she glared at him. “Hardly.” She was far more worried about whether her luck had changed, and she was praying silently that it had indeed – and for the better, not the worse. “I have faced worse than a mere patrol,” she grumbled, ignoring the way Elrohir arched an eyebrow.

“Have you now?”

“Yes,” Anna spoke, holding her reins loosely as she brought her hands to a rest atop the saddle. “Though it was at a more perilous time than this…”

“I see.” Elrohir turned his attention back to the path in front of them, and Elladan took over the conversation smoothly.

“Do not mind him and his serious attitude,” he said with a smile. “He always becomes like this whenever we head out on patrol—”

“For a good reason too,” Elrohir muttered, shaking his head as he scanned the horizon with sharp eyes, but all was clear, and all was peaceful as they headed out into the very wilds in which she’d been found originally.

“I doubt we will encounter any enemies until we are further out,” Elladan said, but his twin didn’t relax his guard in the slightest, and neither did Anna. _She’d encountered the unexpected far too many times to do such a foolish thing. _But Elladan was seemingly correct, and Anna had her hopes that her luck had changed after her deaths, because their first night was peaceful. The horses milled about in the grass underneath the starlit sky, the crackle of the campfire one of the few sounds aside from the hooting of owls and other various nightlife. _It was nothing like the modern human cities where one sometimes couldn’t even see the sky. _Anna hadn’t been to a mortal city there as of yet, but she doubted it would be much better, given how far behind technology seemed to be compared to her time in the mortal lands.

Sighing quietly, Anna focused her attention out on the forest, ears twitching as she strained to hear other sounds. Any sounds. Anything would be better than the crackle of fire, and the flames which had burnt her so long ago. Leaning back against the tree she was resting against, she stared up into the sky, smiling as the stars twinkled down on her. _She loved the light of the stars. _Her eyes flickered over onto the Star of Eärendil, one of the few changes to the eternal sky above her. It shone so brightly in the evening.

“Anna!” Gwestriel waved at her from where she sat close by the fire. “Why do you not come closer? It is warmer here.”

She smiled back, shaking her head as she pulled her silky grey travelling cloak further around herself. “I am rather comfortable here,” she said, glancing at the flickering orange flames, shuddering at the memory of how they’d consumed both her and the city.

“Are the flames too warm for your liking?” Elrohir asked, and Anna stiffened, glancing up at the ellon who was leaning against the same tree as she. _She hadn’t even sensed him appear there, being as stealthy as he seemingly was. _He had probably been attempting to startle her somewhat, knowing him for the short amount of time she had. _After all, it was always better to teach one to remain on guard, especially out in the wilds. _

Staring out into the distance, she barely refrained from shuddering at the memory of those flames. “I am not fond of any sort of fire,” she said, her eyes haunted as she kept her gaze firmly away from the fire. “And you? Why are you so far away from the delightful fire?”

Elrohir shrugged. “I am taking first watch, and should anything befall the camp, you are the closest to the woods. Should I not be in a position to warn you as such if I should sense a foul presence?”

It was her turn to shrug. “Very well,” she mumbled, eyes glazing over in sleep as she rested out there in the depths of the forest they had ridden through.

The sun rose quickly, bringing morning and the first meal of the day with it. Anna wasted no time with her meal, preparing to head out once again. The wilds weren’t half as scary as the first time she’d been stuck in them. Not with her trusty horse, some weapons, and an elven patrol by her side. “We should be cautious from this point onwards,” Elladan informed her later on that very day, eyes narrowed as the jovial mood of a few moments ago seemed to vanish. “Glorfindel’s patrol were only two days out when they were set upon by orcs.”

Anna nodded, face grim as they lapsed into silence, eyes scanning the forest for any hints of blackened armour and leathery skin. _She felt bare without heavy armour. _Arrows wouldn’t be deflected as easily with what she had on, and she had to keep that in mind. _She missed her golden armour. _But still she rode on, the only sounds she could hear being the clippety-clip of their mounts as they made their way down the road. _Well, there were the breaths and quiet murmurs of the elves around her too, but nothing else of much significance. _

“Do you think we are likely to encounter danger in the coming days?” she asked, curious as to his thoughts on the matter. _She wasn’t used to seemingly peaceful rides through the forest, and despite the orcs lurking about, the Third Age was considerably more peaceful than the First. _They had to sneak about before, especially when entering and exiting the city, and danger could always be lurking around the corner waiting to strike.

“Perhaps,” Elladan said. “I know not. All we can do is that which we are meant to, and if orcs fall upon us, then so be it.”

“So be it,” Anna echoed, silence falling yet again, and this time it remained unbroken until they made camp that evening.

It was Therion who broke it, too.

“Lady Anna, would you mind aiding us in our hunt this evening?” he asked, voice cool and just as musical as the rest of their kin. “You do not wish to linger by the fire, yes?” He tilted his head, grey eyes boring into her own with an intensity that almost alarmed her. _Was her fear of fire that obvious? _“I fear Elladan or Elrohir may ask you to assist with meal preparations over there otherwise.”

“Very well,” she said, not needing to think about it a second longer. Heading into the forest away from the flames would only be beneficial to her. “Though my marksmanship is not the greatest, I do have decent tracking abilities.”

“Those will be of benefit,” Therion hummed. “Come, let us be off, lest we wish to come back to a hoard of ravenous elves.”

“We would not want that,” Anna mumbled, smiling at the two dark-haired elves accompanying them. _She couldn’t remember their names, though she was fairly sure she’d been told them in passing. _Her eyes scanned the forest floor, ears twitching as she strained to hear any sort of prey ahead of them as they ventured deeper and deeper, careful not to stray too far from where they had made camp.

“Spread out, but do not venture too far from each other. Fetch the rest of us should you find a trail of any sort,” Therion ordered, and Anna complied along with the other two.

It was peaceful in the forest, with nothing but the gentle breeze ruffling through her silvery locks, the stillness and silence of the night, the scent of grass and some sort of animal droppings which made her nose wrinkle, and the sound of bowstrings being drawn—

Anna froze, a flash of movement in the corner of her eye making her turn, arm lifting up almost instinctively. _And the arrow once aimed at her head pieced straight through it instead, point coming to a rest only centimetres away from her eye._

Whimpering, Anna dived behind the cover of the nearest tree, wincing as she heard arrows impacting the tree instead. She glanced down at her arm, cursing at the arrow embedded through her arm. “I miss my gauntlets,” she muttered, before raising her voice. “Therion! We have company!” she yelled, pulling herself to her feet, drawing her sword from its sheath at her hip. “And not of the good sort in case you had not already guessed!”


	11. Injury

Anna barely withheld the wince as she snapped off a large majority of the arrow shaft in her arm, not wanting it to get in the way. The forest was almost deathly silent around her. _That should’ve been the first warning. The birds were gone – disturbed from their usual resting places by the orcs. _She was hardly going to be able to fire her arrows properly either, with the injury she’d just received, and that meant she had no way to take down the irritant of an archer but to get closer. Her ears strained, cautious as to anything moving to find a better position to aim at her, but all was quiet. Behind her at least, that was. She could hear the clash of blades of her companions as they no doubt faced off with the rest of the orcs. _There had to be more than the archer or two that had her pinned behind the tree. _Biting her lip, she glanced between her blade and the shorter knife she had on her person.

_If she could close the distance and throw the knife… _she mulled over the idea, shaking her head and tightening her grip on her sword. _She struggled when it came to ranged weapons, and most of her focus had always been on the blade and the bow. _

It wasn’t as though she could dodge an arrow, especially if she wasn’t certain of the exact direction it was coming from. She might have elven reflexes, but there was a limit. Not to mention her fighting abilities weren’t on par with what they once were. “There has to be a way…” she mumbled. There had to. She needed to come out of the fight relatively unscathed. _The arrow wound was hardly her fault, and it was relatively minor to what it could have been. _As far as her thinking went, she’d been lucky with that, and was alive solely thanks to her reflexes.

The sound of a bow being drawn had her on her toes, ready to leap away, but rather than another black arrow sailing towards her, the sound of a heavy body thumping to the ground reached her ears instead. Silence greeted her for a few moments, and she didn’t dare breathe as she wondered exactly what was going on beyond the tree behind which she was hidden.

“Lady Anna!”

Anna blinked, head snapping around to spy the black-haired ellon whose name she could not remember for the life of her hurrying out of the bushes. “The archer?” she queried, and he nodded in confirmation.

“Dealt with,” he said, holding up a silvery piece of armour which its relevance she didn’t quite understand to the situation at hand. “We need to warn the others.”

“And Therion?”

“He will be able to hold them off for a short while—”

Anna shook her head. “Only one of us needs to go and call for aid,” she said, turning as she heard the sounds of swords clashing.

“Then if you would—”

But Anna didn’t listen, instead turning and sprinting towards the sounds of fighting. “You warn them!” she yelled, charging headlong through the thicket, drawing her blade as the sounds grew that much louder.

_Not so cowardly now, was she? _she thought to herself, teeth bared in a mockery of a grin as she leapt out of the bushes. She had a split second to take in the ten orcs descending on Therion and another before she jumped right into the fray.

“Lady Anna?”

An arrow soared past her head, nailing an orc right between the eyes, and she moved forwards, trusting Therion and his bow to cover her back as she dived through the tiny pack of orcs. She’d seen them in the hundreds of thousands – and she’d stood against ones like them when they’d invaded her precious city. A pack of ten was nothing.

Well, that would be the case if she was in tiptop shape with the rest of the House of the Golden Flower at her back.

She only had Therion and the other ellon whose name she couldn’t remember – though he did a fantastic job at standing in for the warriors she missed so very dearly. Ducking under rusted and dulled swords, she hacked and parried with her elven blade. “Barely any resistance,” she mused, blinking as she sliced open yet another orc’s neck as another one creeping up behind her fell prey to another one of Therion’s arrows.

She missed the familiar weight of her heavier sword – the one Rog had given to her all those years ago – but she doubted she’d ever see a blade like that one again. It had been unusually heavy, and probably something of an experiment for the smith. Still, the sword she carried with her right then and there got her through, and within minutes the ten enemies were dead.

“Well, that… went well?” Anna mumbled, glancing down at the black arrow still half-buried in her arm. She’d removed the tip, but she hadn’t gotten around to pulling the rest of it out. That was better left to someone with better healing skills than her – knowing her luck, she’d only injure herself more.

“You are hurt,” Therion spoke, eyes locked on her arm.

“Minor wound,” she said, sighing as she brough her arm up for inspection, only to freeze when she heard the sounds of feet moving closer. They weren’t the light footfalls of her kin either.

“That was just the scouting party,” Therion mumbled in a rush. “We need to get back to the others and regroup. There is a larger—”

Another arrow pierced through her arm, and Anna felt her eye twitch in irritation as Therion grabbed her uninjured arm. “And they have spotted us.”

“Run,” he ordered, and she and the other elf did as commanded. Together they hurried back towards their camp and their reinforcements. Only once did Anna risk a glance over her shoulder, a curse escaping her lips as she made an estimate of their number.

“Forty of them!”

“No wonder Lord Glorfindel’s patrol were injured if there were that number… combined with the scouts that makes for fifty,” Therion muttered, crying out in pain seconds later. A glance at his leg soon told Anna of the reason too. He’d been hit by another bothersome black arrow, and Anna spared another glance back at the ten irritating archers of their number.

“They are catching up, but I cannot hear Elladan or the others just yet,” the ellon whose name she couldn’t remember said, worry written on his face as they grabbed an arm each – half carrying Therion between them. “Perhaps Aeglosson was delayed by another scout?”

“Could you, in theory, take down the ten archers behind us between the both of you?” she asked, ignoring the throbbing in her arm and the dryness in her throat as they continued to hurry forwards.

“Not before the rest of them overrun us…” Therion said matter-of-factly.

“And if I were between you and them?”

Therion stared at her, alarmed. “Are you _insane_?” he hissed.

“Well there has been some conjecture in the past—”

“You would die!”

Anna resisted the urge to say ‘_been there done that, got the t-shirt_’ because those were the very _edain_ influences speaking right then and there. “Not if I kill them all first – besides, do you have a better idea?” she whisper-yelled, ducking as a hail of black arrows flew by her head. “They will overrun us in a matter of minutes if we continue trying to drag your deadweight around, and we are not about to leave you behind.”

“I will say this now – you are insane,” Therion muttered, readying his bow as they turned back around as one. “Carvon, can you locate the archers?”

“That I can.” Carvon nodded.

“I honestly prefer the term _reckless_,” she said, readying her good arm, deftly spinning her blade in her hand. “Then here I go… I am not going to allow them to turn the rest of my arm into a pincushion as well.” _Her arm demanded vengeance. _

With a roar, she ran towards the oddly intimidating number – there was only one of her with two archers for backup, unlike an entire house of elves in full armour. _She really hoped Elrohir and the rest of the camp arrived soon. _Anna gritted her teeth, using her unarmed hand to punch whilst the other hacked away at her enemies with her beloved blade.

The ring of metal on metal rang in her ears, her vision blurry, and the world starting to spin. She could barely spare a glance down to her arm – but she would bet that the arrows had been poisoned. The hints of green in the corners of her eyes became white, grassy floor becoming ruined paving, and the forty orcs in front of her started to look almost unending.

_Protect the city. _Those were her orders. _She had to protect the city. _

She couldn’t be a coward. She had to move forwards – had to hold the line. Blades cut into her skin, _but that couldn’t be right. She was supposed to be in her golden armour, and that usually protected her chest. _Pain shot through her side, arm aching, but she ignored it all, panting as she continued to slice her way through. Duck, parry, slash, punch. The movements became repetitive, and she kept moving on, leaving a trail of corpses in her wake. Stopping her movement would only be inviting pain and death. But as time went on, her injuries only grew worse, and little nicks became larger slashes, and her reactions became that much more slower. _But she had to hold on, no matter the cost._

Gradually though, the sounds of battle faded away, replaced by the sounds of elven arrows and bodies falling, and Anna blinked as she noticed the lack of enemies and the stillness of the forest around her. _She wasn’t in the city anymore – there was no white city for her to protect. _Her breath came in pants, pain becoming that much more apparent as she sheathed her bloodied blade.

“Anna!” Elladan was by her side in an instant, and she staggered back into him as she looked at the scene in front of her. Most of the orcs had fallen by the arrows of her kin when they’d arrived in the nick of time to rescue her and the others.

“Is it over?” she asked, silently praying there wasn’t yet another overly large group of orcs bearing down upon them.

“It is over…” Elladan replied with a smile. “Can you walk, or would you rather I carry you back to camp?”

“I can…” Anna trailed off, blinking as pain throbbed from both her arm and leg, and a glance down at her leg revealed yet another arrow embedded there. “Use a hand?” she mumbled, pride not allowing her to not walk back to their campsite on her own two feet – if with a small amount of aid.

“Come,” he spoke, supporting her with one arm, patiently helping her stumble back through the forest.

She wasn’t in good shape, and she most certainly knew it. Her chest hurt from simply breathing, and she was limping thanks to the wound to one of her legs. She had only survived that fight thanks to the timely arrival of Elrohir and Elladan. _But speaking of Elrohir…_ “Where exactly is your brother?” she asked, glancing around as if she might be able to spot him – but he wasn’t there, nor were a few others.

“Do not worry yourself so,” Elladan said, smiling slightly as the light of the campfire came into view. “He has taken a group of three others to follow those orc’s trails, if only so we might find a clue of where they are coming from,” he explained. “Though we are only able to do so thanks to the lack of casualties from facing such a number of orcs… and that is no doubt down to you – had you and the others not encountered them or taken action first, then it is likely we would have been waylaid by those orcs this very night.”

“Glad I could be of some assistance,” she mumbled, all but collapsing on her feet when Elladan gestured for her to sit.

“Anna, may I tend to your wounds now, or would you prefer the aid of Gwestriel?” he questioned, and her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why would…?”

“Your injuries are, unfortunately, numerous and some are located in quite—”

“Just treat them, if you please,” Anna grumbled, feeling terribly lightheaded as the evening wore on into the night. She was fairly certain she was drifting in and out of consciousness, because when she came to her senses what felt like seconds later her wounds were dressed as best as they could be with field supplies. Plus there was the fact it was also darker and the moon had already travelled some distance across the sky.

“We need to complete this patrol, but I also wish to ask my father to send reinforcements to our aid with Elrohir gone to scout out the place those orcs are coming from…” Elladan’s voice came from close by, and Anna realised she was lying on a bedding roll. Grunting, she pulled herself to her elbows, wincing at both the pain and the stiffness in her limbs as she shuffled away from the source of burning heat ever so slightly. Her skin felt warm and horribly dry thanks to her proximity to the fire, and the memories those crackling flames brought to mind were terrible.

She didn’t want to be reminded of balrogs and their hand in her death. She didn’t want to remember how idiotic she’d been in facing off against five of them. _Though she’d gladly do it all again for him. _And then her golden-haired idiot had gone and died in a similar manner to her own. _She wanted to punch both herself and him. _She’d sacrificed herself for a reason – one he’d seemingly gone and wasted. _Even if it meant getting everyone else left alive out to safety. _

“Therion is also developing a fever, and if my guesses are correct, then Anna soon won’t be all that coherent… Her injuries are also rather substantial, especially compared to Therion’s own, and they require more healing than the simple patch job I have managed. She needs proper care back in Imladris.”

Anna scoffed, huffing at the thought. _But he was right. _Her stomach was rolling, her throat was parched, her head was aching, and her head felt oddly cold compared to the scorching heat of the rest of her. She wasn’t well enough to continue on her _first _patrol, no matter how the thought boiled in her gut.

“Poison on the blades as per usual,” Carvon muttered.

“So from here I would like to send a group back to take both Therion and Anna back – and also to ask for help from another patrol group,” Elladan said, and all Anna could hear and see was agreement. She was hardly in a state to complain either. She needed to go back and rest. “We are down to eleven, including both our injured companions, and I do not wish to continue with our patrol with less than seven people.”

“I will take Therion and Anna back to Imladris,” Carvon chimed in. “Though I believe I will need at least one other’s assistance…”

“You will have mine,” a voice Anna vaguely placed as Lendor’s spoke up. “Both I and Carvon will manage this task. Will you be continuing with this patrol right away, or will you stay and rest for another day or perhaps two?”

“We will regain our strength here for a little while, and then we shall continue,” Elladan replied. “Any aid my father sends will have enough time to catch up with us, likely within a day, depending on how fast they ride.”

“When will we depart?” Lendor asked.

Elladan sighed. “I would like to say morning, but the sooner Anna returns home, the better,” he said, and Anna tried to ignore the warm tingle that ran through her. _Home. _That sounded nice… even if meant coming into contact with _him _on a regular basis.

_Coward, _the little voice in the back of her head chose that moment to speak up.

Anna reminded herself she’d just singlehandedly charged a group of forty orcs with little hope of victory by her lonesome, and promptly told the little snake of a voice to beat it. _And never come back hopefully, _but luck was rarely on her side when it came to things like that.

“What will we do with that armour we found on those orcs?” Carvon asked all of a sudden. “There was only a single piece, but I do not understand how they could have gotten their hands on such a piece.”

“It may be another clue as to where all these orcs are holed up,” Elladan murmured. “You should take it back to my father. Perhaps he will be able to identify it…”

_“Reckless idiot…” _

Smiling at the thought of his voice and those words he had always spoken with an odd fondness, she felt herself drifting off – and really, she felt as though she were floating – at least until Elladan shook her awake.

“Anna, stir yourself,” he said, urgency lining his voice as he took in the bloodied bandages wrapped around her wounds.

“’m awake,” she slurred, looking up at him through half lidded eyes as she was lifted up from the bedding roll she’d been lying so peacefully on. She couldn’t even find the strength inside her to complain, _because there was no way she could walk by herself with the world spinning as fast as it was. _

“Ride fast, Lendor,” Elladan said, and Anna blinked, realising she was already resting atop Lossenloth. Lindor was seated behind her, holding the reins to her beloved steed as she slumped against him as though he were her favourite armchair. _She couldn’t sit straight for the life of her. _Though apparently Therion could at least do that much, seeing as how he was resting atop his own horse, with Carvon riding beside him, keeping a careful eye on him all the while. Therion wasn’t as injured as her though, but she had only her own recklessness to blame for that. “May Elbereth guide you.”

With that they were off, but Anna couldn’t quite bring herself to speak or even move. Exhaustion was running rampant in her body, along with the raging hot fever, and quietly she prayed that the journey to Imladris would be over as quick as possible – and clearly both Lendor and Lossenloth agreed with her, given how fast they were riding. _She was going home. _A gleeful giggle burst from her lips all of a sudden, and Anna pointedly ignored how Lendor stiffened behind her at the sudden outburst. _She had a place to call home once again, and this time she was going to protect it to her dying breath… again._


	12. Healing

Fever hit well before she could arrive in Imladris’ Halls of Healing, stomach rolling as she slumped back against Lendor and she groaned all the while. _Why had she thought it a good idea to charge into a pack of forty orcs, she couldn’t quite recall. _Probably her pride as a warrior and the reckless streak she’d somehow managed to survive with – well, mostly, in any case. She had always been called _reckless _whenever she had charged into things in that brash manner of hers… _never thinking about what would happen to her at the end. _Sure, she thought about what would happen to others, but rarely had she ever concerned herself with her own health. She had always gotten injured one way or another, and it seemed a part of her no longer cared for that. _It was why her lord had always called her a reckless fool… and told her she should value her own life more. _Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she thought about him, the fever making it harder for her to hide the evidence of her emotions. Her body alternated between feeling horribly warm and dreadfully cold, small moans escaping her even when she found herself collapsing forwards. Sweaty fingers could barely maintain their grasp on Lossenloth’s proud mane. Anna wound up attempting to hug her beloved horse to stay on, all the while trusting Lendor to do something should she be about to fall.

Her silvery hair mixed with Lossenloth’s white locks, sticking to her forehead and cheeks as sweat rolled down from her face. Time stopped having much meaning, and Anna was only lucid for long enough to realise they were being attacked by a smaller group of orcs on the route home before she went back to her blissful world of ignorance as Lossenloth sped up to a gallop. Her trusty horse would see her home – she always had.

The clatter of hoofbeats against solid paving stirred her from her fever-induced delirium, bringing the thought of her sickness to the forefront of her mind. Never had she wanted to throw up as badly as she did, but she kept it down. _She refused to be sick in front of a bunch of people. That was the extent of her pride. _

The clattering of another horse’s hooves against the paving did nothing to help. She still wanted to find a quiet corner in which to throw up.

“Carvon?” an unfamiliar voice sounded.

Lendor dismounted behind her, and Anna only groaned weakly. _She really would have preferred it if she had passed out. _That way she wouldn’t have to feel the horrible sickness as well as her fluctuating temperature.

“Summon Lord Elrond,” Carvon ordered, no doubt aiding Therion off his horse as Lendor helped her down – though really it was less him helping and more him carrying her off her precious horse. “We bring news from his sons.”

“And injuries too!” Lendor called, and Anna grunted at the loud sound which pierced her ears and made her feel that much worse than before.

“’ can walk,” she muttered, wishing Lendor would put her down on her feet, no matter how unsteady they might have been – but it seemed Lendor was not listening to her, though that may have been because she was half-delirious and occasionally rambling about random things. “Down?” Anna pleaded, grumbling as she felt herself rocked with the pace of his walking. No matter how smooth the elven gait was, she was ill, and she only felt everything that much more clearly. Corridors went by in a flurry of activity, and Anna soon found herself being placed on an oddly familiar bed which she patted happily. “Missed you,” she mumbled, snuggling into the fluffy soft mattress of one of the rooms inside the halls of healing. It was a private room too – just like the one she’d been in before. Briefly, she wondered if it were the same before the rolling of her stomach took up the rest of her attention.

She hadn’t experienced the effects of poison much before – the first age had contained more of the flaming and unpoisoned weapons variety. She missed that. Unpoisoned wounds hadn’t made her feel as horribly sick, though they’d hurt far more.

Voices outside her door made her stir from her thoughts, and Anna peered over at the door just in time to see it open and catch a brief flash of gold outside before a familiar elf entered the room to aid in her treatment.

“Lady Anna.” Lord Elrond stared down at her, and Anna tilted her head as she stared up at him – remembering why his appearance had niggled at her memory. She’d read the books in the library, and she knew whom Elrond descended from. _His eyes were the same colour that little Eärendil’s had been, though it seemed he’d inherited more of his mother’s looks and colouring. _

“You can drop the lady already,” she slurred, slightly fed up of elven etiquette compared to the mortal customs she had been living by for the past thirty-odd years. Being constantly called lady by those unfamiliar with her only made her feel that much stranger. Imladris was going to be her home. They just needed to call her by that name, lacking any titles beforehand. _The name she’d forgotten_. “What is it?” she asked after a few moments, blinking in confusion when Arwen was suddenly there in her peripheral. A cup was pressed to her lips, the strong scent of the herbs within making the nausea she felt fade ever so slightly.

“Drink,” Arwen ordered, the rest of her words lost to the haze as she swallowed the oddly tasty liquid in her mouth. _Really her taste buds must have been skewed because the medicine she normally had tasted subpar more often than not. _It was just more proof of how out of it she really was.

Though she didn’t have to contemplate that fact for long – seeing as how she was blissfully unconscious soon after.

* * *

Groaning, Anna lifted a hand to cover her eyes as they cracked open. The light was bright. Too bright. It hurt her eyes, though thankfully her bandaged arm provided more than enough shade for her to open her eyes more than a little crack.

“You finally wake up…”

Blinking, she dropped her arm, eyes having adjusted rather quickly to the light streaming in through the silky curtains of the Halls of Healing.

“Elladan?” she mumbled, pulling herself up to a seated position with some difficulty.

“Correct,” he said, sitting back only once she’d finished pulling herself up till she could rest back against the headboard of the sinfully comfy bed she lay on.

Her body was stiff, partly because some of her was wrapped in bandages, the larger part being due to the disuse from simply lying there in bed – clearly she’d been unconscious for a while if Elladan had returned from patrol safe and sound.

“How long?”

“Three days,” he replied succinctly. “I only arrived back this morning, and I think you will be pleased to note we had no other encounters on our patrol after you left – though I hear you and Lendor were not so lucky on the route before,” he said, and Anna felt her shoulders sink. “I must say, you are really rather unlucky…”

_Anna didn’t need the reminder._

Her luck had always been weird, and that curse was still set upon her. She still had her strange strength, so of course her luck had remained the same way.

Pulling herself over to the edge of the bed, Anna swung her legs over to the side, ignoring how Elladan fretted. “I need to get up,” she declared, pushing herself up to her feet, grateful when the world didn’t begin to spin. “Clearly I have been in bed for far too long – and I have no desire to remain that way.”

“I will fetch my sister then,” Elladan said, rising to his own feet, hurrying out to track down his sister.

Surprisingly enough though, her next visitor wasn’t Elladan’s sister. Instead, Lendor hung about in the doorway. “La—”

“Anna,” she corrected. “Just Anna, if you please. You carried me here, and we ventured on patrol together. I think we can be more familiar than strangers.”

“Anna, then,” Lendor said, smiling at her. “I am glad to see you have finally regained consciousness. The rest of the patrol was fairly worried when they heard you were still unconscious in the Halls of Healing.”

“They were?” She blinked, a small smile growing on her face at his words. Imladris really was going to be her home from now on, and she was already making headway for making new friends.

“I know I speak for all of them when I say I hope you decide to join us again, despite this mishap which occurred on your first patrol with us.”

A bright grin pulled at her lips. “I look forward to it.”

“Then I will be on my way,” Lendor said, pausing only to say. “We will be in the Halls of Fire later, should you wish to join us for the evening meal.” He left then, and she was only alone for another moment or two before Arwen joined her – just Arwen, Elladan having vanished off to complete some other task.

“Anna, I am glad to see you awake,” she said, looking as utterly flawless as ever. Just sitting next to her, Anna felt completely and utterly inferior. Though she was used to it by now – in Gondolin those who outshone her in looks had been numerous. It was part of the reason why she never had many ellith as friends. _That and the fact she had been busy working up a sweat for most hours of the day. _Gwestriel had been nice though, and Anna was looking forwards to seeing her again – even if that meant heading into a hall named after one of the things she feared the most.

“I daresay I am too,” she began with a low chuckle. “I have probably been in here a bit too often considering my short stay so far.”

“That you have,” Arwen said, smiling down at her. “My father sent me over to show you this,” she continued, pulling out a rather dinged and dented gauntlet. “After the scuffle, Renion managed to find this – and my father hopes it will at least give some indication of where all these orcs are coming from.”

“Unlikely,” Anna mumbled. “That is elven armour…”

“Which begs the question of why it was in the hands of these orcs,” she continued, handing the battered gauntlet to her for inspection.

“Perchance they stumbled upon an abandoned troll ho—” Anna blinked, staring at the gauntlet as she caught sight of the crest emblazoned on the dirtied metal. _She recognised some of those scratch marks. _There had not been many warriors in the House of the Golden Flower who had such small hands either. It was slightly more battered than before, but it was undoubtedly _her_ gauntlet. Which begged the question of what exactly it was doing right there and then.


	13. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sorry for how long this has taken me, but I'm going through a phase of cringing at all of my Tolkien works and silently wishing I had the time to rewrite them all. Apologies for how short this is too.

“Anna!” Gwestriel’s bright voice greeted her as she strode into the hall, wrapped up in robes of a blue to match her eyes. Her mother had often said it was the colour which suited her the most, and Arwen had seemingly agreed – hence why she had been gifted the dress the day before. She felt like she was mooching off everyone else’s kindness still.

Part of her hated it, the other acknowledged she hardly had a choice. Her pride was a bitter pill to swallow, but there was no other option. She was still finding her feet in a world so very similar and yet completely different to the one she had left behind however many thousands of years ago with her death. Thoughts of _edain _and _eldar _were still jumbled in her head, and the confusion over her gauntlet still being there in that day and age.

It should have been on her… body, in Gondolin, and Beleriand had been sunk. Elven-made armour and weapons were made to last through the years, so it was no surprise it was still in reasonable shape, but it didn’t have a life of its own. _Which meant that someone had moved it. _Someone had taken it from her body. _Or something. _The thought made her shudder, because only dark, foul creatures had been left in the city.

“What has you so lost in thought?” Gwestriel asked, looking at her curiously, and Anna shook her head, clearing the thoughts. It would do her no good to linger on questions like that. The answers would reveal themselves in time if that was to be.

“It is nothing important,” she murmured, pushing away the beautiful and bitter memories which always stirred when she thought about her old home. “How was your day? The rest of the patrol?”

“It was alarmingly quiet after you left,” Gwestriel informed her, and silently Anna cursed her luck. _Why couldn’t she ever have good luck for once? _But that was not to be, so she supposed she might as well just hurry up and get over it – she had almost accepted it before she had miraculously become one of the edain.

“I have always had a strange luck,” she said, sighing softly, stiffening ever so slightly as she heard the crackle of flames even from across the room. She had chosen the seat furthest away from the fire, hating the thoughts it brought to the forefront of her mind.

_Who in their right mind would want to linger on thoughts of their death? _

Certainly not her, and it was fire which had killed her. _Well, along with the lacerations from the battle._

Gwestriel chuckled. “That you do,” she agreed, no doubt thinking on all the times she had been in the Halls of Healing since her arrival there. _Too many times, _but that was just her luck. She just had to live with it. _Or perhaps try to minimise the risk somewhat._

Anna only hoped her strange luck didn’t follow her when she was called to the sea. Back to their homeland in Aman.

* * *

Her movements were more fluid than when she had first arrived. She was improving, and for that Anna was grateful – especially to the twin sons of Lord Elrond. They had trained with her, despite her insistence on not joining with the rest of their kin. _She couldn’t be seen by him. _Her heart pounded at the thought alone, and that only fuelled her determination not to be found. It wasn’t excitement. It was fear and anticipation. She would probably sooner face her fear of fire than find the courage to face him again.

_She had kissed him because she thought she wouldn’t see him again for a long time. Because she had thought she’d have time to mull things over in the Halls of Mandos, to find and scrape up the courage needed to face him once more. _Needless to say she hadn’t been expecting to forget about her old life and then find herself thrown back into a world so different to the one she had known. For Glorfindel it had been thousands of years. For her, it had only been a matter of months since she had begun remembering her past life.

_A coward through and through, _that snide voice in the back of her head reminded her.

“Anna. Focus!” Elladan called, and silently she cursed for getting so caught up in her own thoughts – a big problem of hers as of late. “Drive your opponent where you _want _them to be,” he reminded, just as she found herself backed up against the high wall on one side of the training grounds they used.

Elrohir smiled, blade lifted and at her throat. “Yield?”

“I yield,” she grumbled, berating herself for being sucked into the never-ending vortex of thoughts plaguing her.

“You are improving,” he told her, smiling still. Part of her was reminded of _his _smile and how she had once wanted to wipe it from his face. _Preferably by beating him in a spar for once. _A fond sigh left her lips. _Like she would ever be able to manage that._

“Slowly,” she grumbled, looking down with a scowl. _She’d always been a bit too impatient. _“But I suppose I should be happy with progress,” she said, making her way towards the armoury, reading to put her training blade back. “I think I will retire for the—”

“Ah,” Elladan chimed in. “That reminds me. Adar asked to meet with you once you finished here.” He inclined his head. “He requested we bring you to his office.”

Puzzled, Anna nodded. “I see,” she said, blinking in confusion as she wondered what exactly the Lord of Imladris required of her.

* * *

Really, Anna should have seen it coming, and she ought to have run a mile, heedless of the consequences, _like the utter coward she was at times. _

It was sitting innocently on his desk, gleaming in the dying sunlight, and Anna swallowed as she stared between the gauntlet and the grey eyes which felt like they were boring into her very soul. She didn’t like the intent staring. The one which made it seem like he had pieced together a rather interesting puzzle.

That should have been enough of a warning by itself, though it didn’t stop his next question from sweeping the rug out from under her feet.

“You are from Gondolin, are you not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asjkf
> 
> Time to get the ball rolling, no?


	14. Truth

Her heart thudded in her chest like a steel drum, face frozen in a mockery of a half-smile as she stood in his office. The walls surrounding her then suddenly felt far too small, the room seeming to shrink as she stared blankly at the Lord of Imladris. Words seemed to escape her, and a small, snide part of her brain laughed at her then. _Of course someone would have eventually figured her origins out. _It was just that part of her had been hoping she would have been very far away from anyone remotely connected to one Glorfindel of Gondolin, as the Lord of Imladris was – given how he had appointed the golden-haired elf to be his seneschal. Her fingers dug into the skirts of the dress she wore, the fabric feeling constricting all of a sudden. She felt oddly bare without armour then, not that the full plate of old was commonly seen in those times.

_She had always used to wear armour when greeting her king. _Though it had less been her greeting the elf who had reigned over Gondolin, and more of her Lord Glorfindel doing just that. She had just been there, attempting not to cause too much of a ruckus.

_It wasn’t like she went looking for trouble – instead, it always wound up finding her, _and all of her once compatriots acknowledged that with fervour. Trouble had found her once again in the Last Homely House East of the Sea, and Anna cursed her luck. She wasn’t ready to face up to her past. She wanted more time to do just that. Everything always seemed to happen to quickly for her, and she was always stumbling to catch up.

“Judging by the expression on your face, I would say that my conclusion is correct,” Elrond spoke fingers steepled beneath his chin as he stared at her. _Like he could see right through her. _“I would very much like to hear your story.”

Anna looked away. “It is… hard to explain,” she mumbled, feeling utterly pathetic as she shifted awkwardly on her feet. “My memory is a bit… jumbled. I did not lie to you when I said I was having trouble with it.”

“All of the surviving Gondolindrim heeded the call back to Valinor upon the end of the First Age.” Those grey eyes continued to bore into her with an intensity which unnerved her. “Which only leaves the possibility—”

“I did not make it out of the city alive,” she said, wincing slightly as she cut him off. Terribly rude of her, but she didn’t want him to say it out loud. That she had died. That she hadn’t been good enough to make it out alive. _He was smart enough to get the correct conclusion from those words alone. _She didn’t want to be reminded of her death or subsequent reincarnation. _Nor that she was supposed to be there for him. _The one she had kissed before running off to meet certain death at the hands of fiery fiends.

That was an embarrassing and personal tale she didn’t want to tell. _Because her lord was legendary there, and she had faded into history as yet another of the valiant number who had stood against the forces of Morgoth. Unnamed and unknown. _Not that she could even remember her own name from before, and she had the sneaking suspicion someone would have to speak it aloud to her then – in order for her to reclaim that last part of her. _Just like how she had remembered the name of… _Mentally, she shook her head, pushing the thought to one side.

She just had to stop focusing on it. _Stop being a coward and face him. _But there was still plenty of time before that.

“Glorfindel was sent back with a mission and as a show of faith,” Elrond said, and Anna winced yet again. _There was hardly anything noble or important about her being there. _She was just there to stop _his_ longing for Aman. _Though why anyone thought she had any sway over him… _Her fingers curled, knuckles turning white at her tight grip on the fabric of the dress she wore. _She wanted her armour back. She wanted to go back and redo her entire past._

Her shoulders sunk, ears reddening as she remembered how confident she had felt when she had dragged the older elf down into a kiss. How the realisation of the consequences of what she was going to do hit her. How they had given her the strength to show her love in the only way her stupid, headstrong past self had thought up in that moment. “My task is nothing so noble,” she murmured. “It has naught to do with the majority of our kin on Arda.”

Elrond paused then, humming almost inaudibly in contemplation. “Though your skills as a warrior will only aid us with our current task,” he said quietly, looking down at his desk, drumming his fingers against the wood. “Perhaps after the current situation in these lands is dealt with we might further discuss this?” he offered, and Anna was infinitely grateful he had given her more time to get her thoughts together. _To gather her wits before dealing with anything golden. _Or maybe the situation with the orcs was worse than she thought.

“That is more than acceptable,” she said, shoulders sinking in relief. “My apologies… I have not been… back for very long.” _The thought of fire still made her flinch. _She had spent years thinking that she was _edain _and that the nightmares were just that – not memories.

A slight incline of his head let her know she was forgiven for the trouble she might have caused. “In the meantime, though, I would be most grateful if I could have your assistance with dealing with the task before us.”

A knock at the door broke the temporary silence which fell after his words. “Father?”

“Enter,” he bade, and Anna sighed quietly as she heard Elrohir enter the office. “You have all come at an opportune time.”

Anna stiffened. _All? _She blinked, feeling eyes on her back as she remained staring straight on. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end, and she had the distinct impression she did not want to see who was.

“Elrohir,” he spoke, pushing some of the papers on his desk aside, revealing a map of the lands surrounding Imladris. “You found the source of the orcs disturbing the recent patrols.”

One of the twins nodded, and from behind the curtain of her own hair she could see him standing the furthest away from her own position. _There were two bodies between them. _Anna tried not to think of how the one next and slightly behind her was familiar. _She recognised that presence, even if it had grown unquestionably stronger. _“The mountains,” he said, tapping the corresponding location on the map. “We have long since known they dwelt there, but the tunnels they have made in there were classed too numerous and our numbers too few to risk entering their home and removing the threat,” Elrohir continued, likely adding the last part for her own benefit – given how she was still relatively unfamiliar on the current history. She had barely had time to read over the major events which had occurred in her _absence._ “They have never given us much reason to turn our eye on them, but something has occurred to drive them out in numbers to the forests.”

Elladan’s lip curled. “A population growth,” he remarked, scowling distastefully. “But we can no longer ignore their threat. Numerous patrols have been injured in the last few weeks, and the severity of the injuries has only grown.”

“Which means we will need to deal with the threat at its source,” Elrond spoke. “This is the reason I requested the four of you meet me here, not including the business I had to discuss with Anna here. I believe you are familiar with my sons, but from what I have heard you have yet to meet my seneschal, Glorfindel.”

Anna turned to Elrond, a hint of pleading in her stare _to not make her do this, _but the slight smile on the Elf Lord’s face told her he knew exactly what he was doing.

Fear curled in her gut. _He totally hated her. As soon as he caught sight of her face he would scowl and hurry away. _Her hands trembled slightly. _Coward, _that same snide voice in the back of her head taunted her. She curled her hands into fists. _The worst that could happen was that Glorfindel would want nothing to do that. _So she just had to turn quickly and get it over with. _To stop being a coward and rip the plaster off the wound. _It wouldn’t hurt too much. _Would it? _

Sucking in a sharp breath, she turned, hating herself in the instant she met those familiar grey eyes which swiftly narrowed in contemplation. “Even now your face still haunts me,” he murmured softly, a hand brushing against her cheek feather soft, and Anna swallowed harshly. _Why did it sound as though he had missed her? _“I wonder why it is—”

The words left her lips without thought or consternation, eyes sliding from the tall, familiar figure to anything which really wasn’t him. “Been a while, hasn’t it?” she murmured, lifting her hand to brush softly against the back of his own which still lingered by her cheek.

Silence reigned in the office for a few moments, and silently Anna wondered what exactly Lord Elrond and his twin sons were thinking. _They had an audience, dammit. _

The same audience which were soon witnesses to the crushing hug she was soon engulfed in. Her face was pressed up against a familiar chest, golden locks blocking her vision of everything else. It was warm. Familiar. Comforting.

“Rithrien,” he breathed, and she closed her eyes then, a smile painted on her lips as she heard the name she had lost. _He’d given it back to her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rithrien - fairly sure this means something along the lines of 'to strive' which I felt suited her, but my sindarin isn't the greatest.
> 
> And sorry for the short chapter and possible substandard writing, but my tolkien writing motivation has taken a sharp decrease, which makes me rather want to finish this and ideally go back and edit the hell out of this and 'Remember' to make them ten times better, since I nailed a few things down while writing instead of doing just that beforehand.


	15. Found

Her cheeks were tinted red by the time he released her – from the hug that was. His hand still found its way into her own, fingers intertwining with hers even as his attention returned to Lord Elrond who stood regally in front of them.

Rithrien swore she could see a slight smirk on his lips, but that was likely just her overactive imagination. _Elves didn’t smirk as such, especially not those like Lord Elrond. _She swallowed a laugh at the thought. _She had embarrassed herself before her previous liege enough times. _Sighing softly, she too returned her attention to the situation before her. Though she did occasionally catch those grey eyes flickering over to her, his hand occasionally tensing around her own as though to double check she was still there.

_He didn’t hate her then, _it seemed. Her eyes flickered over to the suddenly very interesting wall of the office. _Was it really alright for her to be there? _She shifted nervously on her feet, chewing on her lip as the strategy meeting began around her.

She didn’t have much to input, and she had a feeling she was mainly there thanks to Elrond’s meddling. _He had definitely ascertained the relationship she had with Glorfindel before he had summoned both of them to his office. _Rithrien fought the urge to pout as she listened to the talk of strategy. They were to be split into two groups, with the larger entering the tunnels directly, whilst the other dealt with any stragglers or that which escaped the tunnels.

“Though I would beg of you to send me into the tunnels in this one’s place,” Glorfindel intoned then, lifting their clasped hands. “I can guarantee you that she will find the worst foe encounterable—”

“That was _one _time,” she complained, a scowl painted on her lips as she stared into those startlingly grey eyes. _She’d missed them. _Their clarity and depth. The wisdom they held. The way they reminded her of the stars above. _The way they stared at her flatly whenever she said something to counter his arguments._

“Sixth excursion,” he muttered pointedly, and Rithrien winced. _Yeah, that had been the worst one of their few ventures outside the safety of the city. _

Clicking her tongue, she glared at the floor, pouting furiously at the irrefutable words Glorfindel had thrown her way. The sixth excursion all those years ago had not gone well to say the least. In fact, it was the last excursion she had gone on. _After that it had been more training than any fighting._

“I feel as though it would be best for you to hold the rear this time, old friend,” Elrond said, face clouded with an expression she couldn’t quite get a read on. _Foreboding? Concern? _Rithrien shook her head slightly, clearing her thoughts as she once again focused on the little strategy meeting. “There will likely be other entranceways to the tunnels, and should they decide to advance upon us while the majority of our warriors deal with the infestation.”

Glorfindel frowned, seemingly sensing he wouldn’t be able to change the other ellon’s mind on the matter, turning on her then. “Rithrien, should you encounter anything vaguely above your skill level, then you are to retreat and regroup – because undoubtedly you’ll find yourself facing it on your own,” he said, sounding far more like his old, commanding self back when he’d still been the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower.

“I feel like you are making a lot of assumptions here,” she grumbled, wrapping her free arm around her chest. “It’s not like I am going to encounter another balrog anytime soon.”

“I simply do not want to risk having to wait a few thousand odd years to meet with you again, or worse – to never see you again,” he remarked, staring at her flatly, concern hidden in the depths of those sterling grey eyes. Rithrien felt her cheeks turn a traitorous shade of red. “In fact, I would beg of you to stay behind, but that would be an insult to you… I also know you would never stand for that, because you are a stubborn fool who does not heed her own safety.”

_And a stubborn fool she would no doubt stay. _

“But, I suppose, that is part of your charm,” he said, fingers tangling in her silvery hair yet again, his attention solely focused on her. “Though others might yet call it an annoyance.”

Rithrien scowled, cheeks still annoyingly red. _She was just irritated at him, of course. _She wasn’t blushing in front of everyone, and certainly not because of him.

* * *

The tunnels were dark and dank, the smell of unwashed bodies and the coppery tinge of blood permeating her nose with every step she took further into the maze. They had marked the path they had come from clearly, hearts racing as they moved further into the den of orcs. The hastily constructed wooden bridges were rickety, and Rithrien wondered if her abysmal luck would bring them crashing down. Silently she prayed it wouldn’t, thanking her lucky stars each time her feet made it safely to hewn rock. The orcs had been tunnelling, though they had barely any craftmanship skills to speak of, meaning the floors were uneven, and the walls jagged. They were creatures of destruction, and they had been eating away at the heart of that mountain.

She marvelled at the fact the mountain hadn’t collapsed inwards – what with the amount of tunnels carved through it with clumsy hands and crude tools.

“Keep up, An—I mean Rithrien,” Elrohir spoke, startling her as his voice sliced through the silence around them. Rithrien didn’t like the silence. Orcs had already ambushed them once, firing arrows upon them from yet another of the rickety wooden bridges. Rithrien had only been too pleased to watch the better archers amongst them pick them off.

Thankfully, they had yet to encounter any major injuries, though there were a few light scrapes here and there – not that she had received any. But the armour she wore probably had something to do with it. It was somewhat heavier than the lighter garb favoured by the rest of her kin there in Imladris. She felt far more comfortable in it, and Glorfindel had known it. _As to why he’d managed to find some which fitted her perfectly… _Rithrien shrugged, snapping her focus back to the objective at hand. There was no time for letting her guard down.

Though it was odd. The winding pathways had taken them up and down, but as of the last hour there had been no sightings of orcs. Which only made Rithrien suspicious as to when her luck would inevitably play up and bring something terrible there way. There hadn’t been a terrible amount of orcs, considering they had been assumed to be dealing with an overpopulation issue. Though perhaps Elladan’s group had encountered more when they had split at one of the junctions to better scour the tunnels.

There had to be a large group somewhere, and Rithrien dreaded running into such a group. Arrows could be deadly in that darkness, as black shafted as orc arrows were. The helmet on her head gave her comfort there, hair braided back carefully by her beloved lord that morning – a whispered plea in her ear to come back safely. Not that she planned on doing otherwise.

The tunnels were growing slightly narrower and more crude as they went on, and Rithrien froze as the group ventured past yet another fork in the tunnel. The left path where the group of elves had gone down, marking the entranceway as they went. But it was the right fork her eyes were drawn to, something pulling at something deep down. An urge to go that way, which, in hindsight, should have been the first warning that her curse of terrible luck was about to strike.

It was a short path, and at its end crude mining tools had been abandoned. _She was just going to quickly investigate this part of the tunnels before hurrying back to the group. _Because the feeling inside her made her very uneasy. She couldn’t turn her back on that particular pathway. It felt as though leaving her back open for some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, and her curiosity was a damnable trait when it came to ventures like that.

The tunnel wasn’t a dead end, like she had thought it might have been though. Instead, it widened out rather suddenly, and Rithrien found herself standing in the middle of a large corridor – which was more like a staircase. One which didn’t seem as though it had been made by orcish hands. Swallowing back her apprehension, she leant down, examining the scorch marks on the wall.

They looked familiar.

Rithrien gulped, the hairs on her body standing up on end as a voice seemed to beckon her upwards – towards the uppermost part of whatever structure she had stumbled across _inside _the mountain. Hesitantly, she went onwards, heart thumping in her ears as a voice in the back of her head screamed at her to run back to Elrohir and the rest of her kin within the walls of the mountain.

Her foot paused on the next step, dread roiling in her stomach, and she turned then. She was going to be sensible and go back to her—

_Coward._

Rithrien gritted her teeth together at the snide voice which whispered that in her ear. _Why was she backing away? _She shook her head, patting her cheek with one hand as though that could snap her out of whatever daze she had fallen into. _She wasn’t weak. _Thought firmly in mind, she turned back around. All she needed to do was figure out what was going on, and then she could report it. _Because something wasn’t right. Because something was horribly familiar about the destruction which marred the walls of the oversized staircase._

She should have turned back then, she knew, but she always seemed to have little regard for her own safety at times. _Glorfindel had reminded her of that enough times. _But curiosity and the need to prove herself always cam around to bite her in the backside. _Hard. _

She barely held back the sharp intake of breath when she reached the landing room of those oversized stairs. Because there was where it waited. She knew what it was upon sight, fear seeping deep into her bones as she realised exactly why the orcs were fleeing the mountain. Diminished as it was without its master, did not change what it was.

There was no overpopulation problem with the fiendish creatures elsewhere. They were fleeing in terror from a beast whose kind had long since perished in those lands. _They would only have been found in the deepest of places, where they would have been sleeping, should any remain. _Gingerly, Rithrien risked a glance back at the stairs. _Well, it certainly looked like they went deep into the earth. _

But it wasn’t sleeping.

Swallowing, she edged backwards, grateful it hadn’t noticed her arrival, eyes widening when her cursed luck decided to strike hard, her foot slamming into loose rubble which had fallen from the ceiling and walls of the ruined room. It fell back down the stairs she desperately wanted to use and the sound of stone meeting stone echoed all around the expansive room like the drumbeats of doom. A gaze burnt into her then, fiery and piercing, and Rithrien did the only thing elves would generally do when faced with a terror of the First Age – one which had slaughtered elves by the droves, save for the few who’d managed to slay one of their number. _Or a few, in the case of Lord Ecthelion. _

She ran.

She had managed defeating one once before, desperate and at full strength, with the rage of a burning city upon her back. But she was diminished too, no longer the exact same elf who had sacrificed herself for her love and her people. She had died and come back scarred and utterly terrified of fire.

She didn’t want to die again.

Heat scorched her ankle, and then she was airborne, body slamming into a wall as the whip uncoiled from her leg as she jerked her ankle loose. Heart pounding all the more frantically in her chest as she stared between the only exit she could spy and the fiery creature blocking her exit.

_“It’s not like I am going to encounter another balrog anytime soon.” _Her previous words rang inside her head then, and irritation coupled with fear rose inside her then.

Never had Rithrien wanted to punch her past self in the face as much as she did in that instant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be completely honest, I'm going off an older version of Tolkien's lore - when Balrogs were slightly less powerful, and they were more numerous. Tolkien later changed it, saying there were at most seven Balrogs (three was the preferred number if I'm remembering correctly), but... the older version of the lore fits better with what I've done here... so it kind of explains why Anna/Rithrien could slay one back in the city without pitching it off a cliff or drowning it in a fountain (since in the older texts the balrogs were slain by the droves in Gondolin) though it doesn't reduce them to the level of an orc. Not by a long shot.
> 
> Anyway, I'm hoping to get this work finished soon (and then spend the next few years editing it slowly because I have way too many works on the go to divest enough attention to this) especially since this particular work is hard to write at the current moment. Which might explain the lack of interaction between our couple here, since the words wouldn't flow.
> 
> Though who knows... there might be cutesy bits to come...


	16. Battle

Blood filled her mouth, coppery and thick, and she spat out the dislodged tooth with a scowl. Her luck was ridiculous. Rithrien shook her head. _She wasn’t about to jinx it. _The last thing she needed was to discover yet another one. Her situation was bad enough as it was – she had separated from her group in the middle of orc-infested tunnels. _Meaning it was very much like going from the frying pan and into the fire. _Even if she managed to make it past the balrog, there were no guarantees she wouldn’t end up being caught between a rock and a hard place.

Her gaze flickered down, staring at her blade as it lay on the ground where it had slipped from her grip. Legs tensed, she glanced between the silvery sword gleaming in the dim lighting of the room and her enemy. Silence reigned for a few moments, the only audible sound her ragged breathing as she tried to find some semblance of calm.

She hated fire. She didn’t want to be anywhere near those flames. But there wasn’t a choice. There was no other exit to the curious room she had found herself inside. _It was time to stop being a damned scaredy-cat. _Glorfindel didn’t hate her. It had all just been inside her head. Everything was just inside her head.

What was the worst the fire would do? _Oh yeah, just burn her to death again somewhat. _Rithrien set her feet in place, eyes locked on those ones which seemed to flicker between a burnished amber and a dull crimson. _Move, _she told herself, fighting to keep the tears back as she clung to the false bravado. Her legs wanted to shake the longer she just stood there, staring at the terrible creature placed snuggly between her and the slim possibility of freedom – baring any interference from orcs, of course.

Glorfindel would kill her himself if she got out and told him what she’d done. A snort escaped her then, giddiness filling her at the thought of seeing her beau again. _The one she loved. _Who would happily give her an earful about why it was a terrible idea to ditch your squad in the middle of the orc tunnels. Somehow she doubted she would be able to lie and say she had accidentally gotten lost. His eyes always managed to cut the truth from her, what with their solemn, concerned stare which made her feel like a terrible person should she utter an untruth.

_It was now or never, _Rithrien told herself in the stillness of her mind, and her feet dug into the ground then – a tiny sound. One which shattered the stillness between her and her enemy. They leapt into action almost simultaneously, Rithrien swearing, uncaring of how very _edain _she sounded as she rolled under the first swing of that fiery whip. Heat scorched the air above her, fingers scrabbling for the hilt of her weapon before she found herself battered away. _Why couldn’t it use a damned sword? _She was a close-range fighter first and foremost.

Hissing in pain, she dived out of the way of the next strike, thanking her lucky stars that there was a weapon nearby. It was undoubtedly old but made of elvish metal which didn’t rust or otherwise degrade despite years passing, meaning it was in useable condition. _Thereabouts._

Hands closed around the grip of the grime-covered blade, eyes widening as she adjusted her stance, skidding backwards as she fended off the next strike of the whip. Had it been cleaned, Rithrien knew exactly what the blade would look like. After all, it was undoubtedly her old sword. No other had been so heavy.

She had a weapon. _Now she just needed to get close enough to use it. _She needed to run towards the fire, when every cell in her body screamed at her to do the exact opposite. “Courage, Rithrien,” she whispered, as though it would give her the strength needed to plough onwards. Into the fire.

_Because if she didn’t, she never would. Because she would die without fail if she didn’t. _

Desperation drove her forwards, heart in her throat as she dived into a roll underneath the whip as it struck overhead with a calculated precision. A snap of the flaming, blackened wrist was all which was needed to send the fiery weapon careening back towards her, proving its mastery of the weapon as she was forced to lean out of the way even as she continued her flat out sprint. Blood welled up in the slight cut which grazed her face, the flames of the weapon having swiftly sealed the worst of it shut with burn tissue, leaving only a trickle of quickly drying blood behind to roll down her cheek.

She couldn’t stop though. If she stopped it would be game over, and Rithrien had no intentions of losing. _It would cost her everything. _She clamped her jaw, face set in an expression torn between terror and rage as she dived onwards. A hand lashed out as she drew close enough, the blow glancing off the top of her head, and dimly Rithrien was aware her helmet had been lost somewhere behind her.

But she didn’t need her helmet then. Leaping forwards with a cry, she pierced the blackened, cracking skin, heat burning all of her exposed skin from the sheer proximity as she pierced its belly with her trusted old blade.

_It was done. _Her knees shook, and she could only stare dumbly at her sword, the red jewel twinkling in the red fiery light which seeped from the cracks in the balrog’s skin.

A hand slammed into her then, wrenching her loose from the feeble grip she’d had on her blade in that instant, sending her skidding back across the length of the room. She collided with the rough, craggy wall, a low moan escaping her as she slumped forwards. Her head ached something fierce, something warm trickling down from her temple.

Blood, she realised belatedly as she lifted her head amidst the constant pounding. A screech filled her ears, and Rithrien stared between the sword in its belly and the way it advanced on her. _She was going to die, _she realised, blinking slowly. _There was no water around for her to shove it into to help extinguish the fires from which it was made, nor was there any way for her to deal excessive amounts of damage, what with the current state of her body. _Nothing was broken as of yet, but she was battered and bruised.

She was going to die in the tunnels. With flame at her front and wind at her back. It was a soothing breeze.

Rithrien’s eyes snapped open, hearing the wind whistling in _from outside_ at her back. The rockface was thin behind her, and the room was apparently situated very close to the outside, rather than being ensconced in the heart of the mountain the orcs had tunnelled through. More interesting though, were the faint sounds of waters rushing that the wind carried to her.

_You can survive this, _they whispered.

Invigorated, Rithrien stood once more, all but diving out of the way as a fiery hand slammed into the stonework where her head had just been. Elladan’s words came to her then. _“Drive your opponent where you want them to be.” _It wasn’t like she could destroy the stonework without the balrog figuring out exactly what she was planning. They had been intelligent enough to lead armies of Morgoth’s forces. _So why not let the balrog do the work for her._

Eyes narrowed, she leapt back into the fray, seeming as though she was reaching for her sword still lodged in that fiery body. The hairs on her face burnt at the proximity to the age old enemy of the eldar. She lay in wait there, listening as the rock behind her trembled under the mighty blows of the beast directly before her.

The crack of the stonework behind her was her cue. It blew outwards, rubble echoing as it rolled its way down the steep drop she barely managed to catch a glimpse of before she threw herself forwards, into a neat tuck and roll between the legs of the beast in front of her.

Snarling, she threw herself towards the balrog, hissing in pain as her arms wrapped around the nearest part of its body. _You can survive this, _the wind and waters whispered to her again, and Rithrien made her mind up then and there as she used the last of the strength she had saved up. Her booted feet dug into the ground, finding purchase as she pushed. A roar left her lips, great and terrible, and she could only smile with bloodied, cracked lips as she pushed the beast back.

Her strength came in handy at times like these.

The leather of her boots creaked, metal grinding on metal, clawed hands scrapping at the armour of her back in a desperate bid to free itself from her iron grip. But her hold was too strong, just like everything else about her, and back the balrog went, feet scrabbling against loose stones just as a voice cried out behind her.

“Rithrien!” Elrohir screamed, terror lining his voice as he caught sight of one of the horrors of the First Age. She had been terrified too, when she had first faced them, but courage had helped her.

There was nothing he could do to help her though. It was her fight. Her decision. _You can survive this, _the wind and waters whispered once more, and Rithrien smiled grimly. Her head turned for a brief moment, bluish grey eyes finding the ones staring at her, and her smile only widened. Decision made, she pushed once more, centre of balance pushed too far forwards. “Together,” she hissed, toppling the pair of them over the edge.

Wind whistled through her hair, blowing it back as she fell, a silvery curtain behind her, trusting in both herself and the warm whispers which had guided her so.

The waters were so blue.

* * *

Dimly, she was aware she was floating. She was also aware of the splitting pain in her head, and the ache of the burns and lacerations all over her body. Nevertheless, the waters and wind hadn’t lied. _She was still alive. _Injured and in pain, but her heart was still beating, and her soul was far from fading. Groaning, she cracked her eyes open, wincing as the light made her head ache that much more.

_Where was she? _She couldn’t even tilt her head like she usually did when pondering questions like those. _A river was the answer, _but Rithrien had no idea whereabouts it went from and to. Was she still near Imladris?

“What the—?” the _familiar _voice came, and she blinked slowly, smiling as she realised exactly _who _the waters had taken her to. _Somehow she doubted it was a coincidence. _Waters sloshed as someone waded through them, and then Rithrien was greeted to the sight of her golden-haired lord standing over her in full battle regalia. “Why,” he began in a voice vaguely reminiscent of her mother before a scolding, “am I finding you in a river when you’re supposed to be inside the mountain?”

Rithrien laughed, glee making her injuries feel that much better, even as she was lifted from the waters with care. “You know,” she spoke, feeling oddly hysterical as the weight of what she had done crashed down atop her. “I said yesterday _‘It’s not like I am going to encounter another balrog anytime soon.’”_

Glorfindel stilled. “Somehow, I get the feeling I do not particularly want to hear what you are about to say.”

She giggled, coughing up blood as she found herself lifted atop a familiar silver-hair-eating stallion. “I lied,” she whispered, eyes rolling back into her skull as some rather creative words rang in her ears before the darkness took her.


	17. Recovery

Rithrien came to with a groan, hating the way her body decided how it would be a perfect time to remind her of all of misadventures. The ceiling was white above her, the familiar architecture telling her she was safe back inside the valley. _Imladris. Home. _The two words were synonymous by that point in time, and for that she was glad.

A throat cleared beside her then, and Rithrien turned as best she could, silvery eyebrow arched in question as she stared up at Glorfindel. “Fancy seeing you here?” she offered, blinking as she took in the room which wasn’t the Halls of Healing. “Wherever here is…” she mumbled, glancing around at the tapestries.

_The celandine motif was rather telling once she thought on it. _

“Why is it,” Glorfindel said, folding his arms across his chest, “whenever I leave you to your own devices for more than five minutes, you immediately find yourself embroiled in some sort of trouble?” he enquired, voice soft and lilting.

She laughed then, wincing as pain wracked her chest – her healing still in progress. “You would know the answer to that better than me,” she said, sighing softly as she turned her gaze back onto the ceiling, desperately trying to think around the fact that she was situated in his quarters. _On his bed. _Her cheeks reddened at the thought, though she was grateful to have escaped the Halls of Healing. _She had visited them far too much._

A sigh rent the air. “Your luck is absurd,” he murmured. “Not to mention I heard from Elrohir that someone here decided it would be a good idea to go off by themselves…”

Rithrien winced. _She had known it was coming, but still… _“Not one of my finest moments, I will admit.”

“Do you not understand how terrifying it was to find you in the river, bleeding and barely conscious?” he asked, a frown marring his brow then. “I had only just found you once again…”

She shifted, feeling somewhat guilty. _She shouldn’t have separated from her group. _It was exceedingly obvious in hindsight. _No sane elf would have left the safety of numbers behind. _Though whenever had she claimed to be perfectly sane? “I will try not to let that happen again.”

The mattress shifted then as he sat down beside her. “A thousand years,” he intoned softly, and Rithrien frowned.

“What?”

“I will not be letting you out of my sight for the next thousand years if that is what it takes,” he said, and Rithrien pushed herself to a seated position, ignoring the twinge in her ribs as she did so.

“Wouldn’t that be… a little excessive?” she enquired, ignoring the glint in those grey eyes which told her she would be better off lying down – what with how badly her body was protesting at each motion she made.

“Given your propensity for chaos, I would say it is just right,” he remarked, reaching over to brush her hair out of her eyes from where it hung limply.

Rithrien pressed her fingers together. “Does that mean we’ll be going out on patrol together then?” she asked, smiling faintly as she remembered older times.

“Not for awhile yet, I would presume,” he said, glancing pointedly at her injuries.

Chuckling weakly at the indication, she eyed up his shoulder, silently debating whether it would be too forward of her to lean against him. _But she had kissed him before. _Shrugging, she slumped against him then, sighing in relief at the slight lessening of pain. “Did it bother you… what I did before…?” she queried, stomach knotting ever so slightly at the thought that it _had _bothered him.

“I am afraid you will have to specify,” Glorfindel spoke, and something in those grey eyes told Rithrien he knew exactly what she was asking about.

She scowled then. “When I kissed you—”

“Before running off to confront certain death,” he finished, closing his eyes in what became a rather long blink. “I have to admit it… was an inopportune moment to act on your feelings, but I cannot fault you for that.”

“Would you be opposed to it if I acted on my feelings again?” she asked, shifting slightly as she pulled her head away from its perch on his shoulder.

“Is this a roundabout way of you asking to kiss me again?”

Rithrien only smiled impishly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... the words weren't flowing, hence the short chapter which is probably lacking somewhat, and I have the sudden, fleeting urge to go back and edit everything... which I will be doing probably for the next few years, given the amount of other works going and upcoming (and how often my attention flicks from one work to the next. My muses are fickle creatures).


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